Tomorrow's Picture
by ringsofakhaten
Summary: [Discontinued until further notice.]
1. Bright Yellow Camera

A/N: Hey, guys! Welcome to my newest story! This one's going to be a multi-chapter one, and my first attempt in a long time at writing in first person POV. (Ziva's, to be exact). Any feedback/comments would be awesome. This will eventually be a Tiva fic, because you know it should totally happen. Today is officially the start of my winter break, so hopefully, I can get to writing and updating sooner. I'm also working on another fic right now for another fandom, so that might interfere somewhat and be the cause of any delays (that or laziness - whichever). Anyways, please enjoy and review - and happy holidays to everyone!

…..

:: Chapter 1 - Bright Yellow Camera ::

In Petty Officer Carmichael's house, we found a small pup in a stove. It was enough to horrify us all, but thankfully, the stove had not been on. Unfortunately, the pup was on the verge of death. Petty Officer Carmichael had psychological problems (that much we knew), but this encounter dragged forth a movie reference from Tony: _Fatal Attraction._ He endured two head-slaps from Gibbs before a cold glare from him finally shut him up. McGee was relieved because he always hated that movie when he was younger, and although I was relieved as well, I kind of wanted him to continue talking, just so I could hear his voice.

It was late at night and I was driving home from NCIS, after wrapping up our case. The car ride home was pretty lonely and I wished that Tony was there with me, giving me something to either laugh or talk about. I would have preferred to hear about _Fatal Attraction_ than to listen to the deafening silence that filled my car. When I finally arrived at my house, I was almost ready to hit the sack, but something bright caught my eye when I turned the light switch on.

On the kitchen counter was a bright yellow camera. It was a Nikon brand. I had to do a double take because as soon as I saw that camera there, I knew something had to be off. I didn't own a bright yellow Nikon camera.

I took the camera anyway and turned it on. At first, I had a bad feeling about it, but as I began to scroll through the pictures, I felt myself begin to relax. This had to be some kind of prank, or even a cry for (more) attention from Tony. There were only eight pictures in the camera, but they were of McGee, Abby, and Gibbs.

Tony definitely had to have done this. I don't know how or when he snuck into my house to put one measly yellow camera in my kitchen counter, but I know he did. Five of the pictures were of McGee, seemingly stuck to his chair, as though he had been glued to it, and him trying to get up. One of them was of Gibbs drinking from a tall, rainbow-colored coffee cup. In all the years I have worked at NCIS, I have never seen him with a rainbow-colored coffee cup. And the last two pictures were of Abby, sleeping on a small air mattress in her lab with her stuffed farting hippo tucked under her head, and a ridiculously bright red pair of pajamas on.

Pretty pointless, I thought, that Tony would want to sneak into my house to leave behind a camera with these kinds of pictures. If Gibbs found out about the colorful coffee thing, he was going to be so dead. I chuckled to myself at the thought and briefly flipped through the pictures again. I brought the camera with me to bed, deciding that I could show these pictures to everyone tomorrow morning.

* * *

><p>The next morning, I walked into the bullpen at NCIS, and not too long after the little <em>ding<em> from the elevator sounded and its doors closed, I heard McGee calling for me.

"Ziva!" he called, sounding frantic. "Ziva, help me!"

I dumped my bag next to my desk chair and saw Tony with a smile on his face at his desk, just typing away. McGee was squirming in his chair, and I was not all too sure of what he was doing, or trying to do. "What are you doing, McGee?" I asked him.

"Tony put superglue on my chair and now I'm stuck!" he protested furiously, which only made Tony chuckle to himself more.

I felt my heart skip a beat, but I ignored it. "Tony…" I groaned.

"Come on," Tony laughed, flashing his infamous toothy smile. "You have to admit, it's kind of epic."

"It's not epic, Tony!" McGee shot back. "It's gonna ruin my pants!"

Tony laughed again, and I spent about twenty minutes trying to unglue McGee from his chair. When I was finally able to get him off – and, indeed, his pants were ruined – he was in a very annoyed mood. Of course, Tony only laughed at his misery. I rolled my eyes, but when I turned away from McGee, I couldn't help but laugh a little myself.

"Tony, how many times are you going to glue poor McGee to his chair?" I asked him as I took a seat at my desk and started up my computer.

He gave me a confused look. "What are you talking about? This is the first time I've ever glued McLoser to his chair," he said.

Before I could protest that I had any evidence that this was not the first time he had done such a thing, Gibbs came into the bullpen, a rainbow-colored coffee cup in his hands. "It's true, Ziva," he said. "This is the first time DiNozzo has glued McGee to his chair. I would have remembered otherwise."

"Me, too," McGee grumbled.

Again, I was about to protest but I was cut off by McGee, who was then interrupted by Tony. "Does anyone have any extra pants…?"

"Boss?" Tony said.

Gibbs looked up at him as he set his coffee cup down.

"Why do you have a colorful coffee cup in your hands?"

"It's a Christmas thing at the coffee shop, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied shortly. "They're using rainbow colored coffee cups for the holidays."

"Why don't they just use Christmas colors instead of using rainbow colors?" Tony asked rhetorically.

Gibbs just gave him a stare that made Tony cower away and mutter to himself, "Holiday thing. Right."

"Guys…." McGee piped up, uncertainly. "Anyone have any extra pants?"

Gibbs ignored him and Tony just gave him a sly smile, but neither one of them answered his question. "Abby might have some," I said. "Maybe even Ducky or Palmer."

"Could you come with me please?" he asked as his face turned a bright red.

I giggled half-heartedly. "Sure." He stood up and I followed him out. A large hole in the back of his pants was visible and I couldn't stop myself from smirking and saying, "Nice boxers, McGee."

"Shut up," he growled lowly as we stepped into the elevator.

We arrived at Abby's lab. To my growing horror, she was wearing a bright red pair of pajamas. An air mattress had been inflated, making her lab seem smaller than usual. Her favorite stuffed animal was on her air mattress. What the hell was going on here? I frowned, but neither one of them seemed to catch it.

"Hey, guys!" Abby greeted us brightly. "I'm sorry for the mess. I slept here last night. What can I do for you?"

Before I could answer, McGee did so for me, "Tony glued me to my chair. Ziva helped me to get out, but now my pants are ruined. Would you happen to have any extra pair of pants that I could use?"

"Sure!" Abby replied as she jumped off to find an extra pair of pants, her pigtails, messy as they were from sleep, bouncing along with her. She found him a pair of pants and handed it to him. McGee took them and gave it a good look.

"These are mine," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I know," she smiled.

"Why do you have my pants?"

"You left 'em here one time."

I really did not want to hear anymore after that.

"And you kept them?"

"Well, I wasn't going to throw them away!" Abby protested. "Besides, they just came in handy for you, didn't they?" She smiled, and I was thinking that perhaps it was still too early to be that happy.

McGee shook his head, although it looked like it was mostly to himself. "Uhh... thanks, Abby."

"You're welcome, McGee!" she chirped happily.

With that, we both left her lab, but I headed off to the bullpen, while McGee went to the bathroom to change his pants. The second I got there, Gibbs announced that there was another dead petty officer and told us to grab our gear. I complied with his orders, but my mind was beginning to reel with thoughts of confusion and my stomach began to churn. I must have been wearing a distraught look on my face, because when I grabbed my things and turned around, I bumped right into Gibbs.

"You okay?" he asked me concernedly.

"Why would anything be wrong, Gibbs?" I countered, but avoided the question.

"You look like something's on your mind," he said.

"I would be surprised if nothing was."

He glared at me for a few more seconds, as though he was trying to read me like an open book. I gave him no hints that something was bothering me or that I felt a little disturbed at the moment. He eventually moved away and Tony and I followed him out. Hopefully, McGee would find out that we were headed to a crime scene.

As we walked out, I could feel Tony's eyes practically boring into the back of my head. I probably would not have minded him looking at me, but at this moment, it was uncomfortable. As we headed to the NCIS van, I tried my best to ignore the weird feeling at the pit of my stomach that told me that something was off.

* * *

><p>If Tony has ever glued McGee to his chair in the show, I'm sorry for that. Pretend that, for the sake of this fic, he never did.<br>What did you guys think? Let me know! Reviews are always welcome!


	2. Erased

:: Chapter 2 – Erased ::

As it turned out, there was a dead petty officer in what appeared to be a suicide. We knew these cases all too well. We had seen so many of these "suicide" cases that we knew who truly committed suicide and who didn't. Still, we worked our way through. Tony was collecting evidence and bagging and tagging, I was taking pictures of the crime scene, and poor McGee was taking statements.

On the way here, I remained silent throughout. McGee came in late from having to go to the bathroom to change his ruined pants and had to be in the back of the van, as he usually was whenever Gibbs drove. I sat in the middle and Tony sat on my right hand side. No one made any effort to strike up a conversation, and the only things said were mostly by Tony making more stupid movie references and Gibbs telling him to shut up. Even so, my complete silence must have brought about suspicion. I was never that quiet, but I couldn't help it. My mind was on other things.

I snapped pictures of every corner, not leaving anything out, just the way Gibbs liked it. I worked in silence. I could still feel Tony's eyes on me, staring at me, as though I was hiding something. I liked to think that at the moment I was not hiding anything – well, okay, maybe, in a way, I was. It just wasn't anything big. _Too_ big, anyway.

I would try to block it out for the time being and not mention it. Nobody had to know about what I saw. What they didn't know would not hurt them, right? Besides McGee's pants being ruined, there was no harm done.

"Zeeeee-vaaaah…" Tony said in a light, joking tone, but I knew he was concerned.

"What, Tony?"

"You okay? You've been acting kinda weird." Why did I expect him to _actually show_ his concern? It wasn't that he never did, but most of the times, he did not.

"What are you talking about, Tony? I am fine," I said, and I had to admit that I sounded pretty reassuring, even to myself.

He looked at me just as he was about to drop a piece of evidence into a bag. "You've been… I don't know… quiet. You're never quiet. You didn't even tell me to shut up when I was talking about more movies in the van."

I snapped two more pictures before I answered. "It is Gibbs's job to tell you to shut up," I said. "Maybe I did not tell you to shut up because maybe I wanted to listen to what you were saying." I gave him a small smirk and he smiled at me – not in a sweet, loving way, but still in a way that almost made my knees go weak.

If he did not show me concern, I was not going to show him my apparent vulnerability either, if I could even call it that.

"I still think your silence is weird. It doesn't take much for you to tell me to shut up."

"Shut up then, Tony," I said, but only because I was sure that, in a way, he kind of wanted to hear it.

I turned away from him and continued taking pictures. Not long after I told him to shut up, I felt a strong, yet gentle grip on my shoulder. I stopped for a moment and then spun around to face him. I knew it was him. It could not have been anyone else besides him. "What?" I asked, trying to not let the annoyance creep into my voice.

"You're not okay," he said. "You're acting weird. You're hiding something. I can tell."

I rolled my eyes, never minding the fact that he _may_ have been right. I made sure he saw it. "Tony, for God's sake," I sighed. "I am not hiding anything and I am not acting weird today at all. Why would I be hiding something, anyway?"

"That's a good question," he said. "Why would you?"

"Perhaps because you keep pestering me," I muttered and turned to continue taking pictures. The camera in my hand suddenly felt like it weighed thirty pounds more. The more I thought about today's weird incidents, the more my stomach began to get tied up in knots. Things like what happened today were not things that happened every day, if at all, really.

* * *

><p>When we arrived back at NCIS, I volunteered to take the evidence down to Abby's lab. I knew I was about to get weird stares, and I even prepared to have Gibbs argue about it, but to my surprise, he did not. He shrugged and said, "Alright," but it didn't go by without an awkward Gibbs-stare. As I left, he continued discussing more about our dead petty officer with McGee and Tony. They weren't looking in my direction, so I was able to sneak the camera into my NCIS jacket (I could not be bothered to take it off today) and leave quickly.<p>

I would have liked to have stayed to hear what the guys would say about me, but part of me told me that they had better things to do – well, besides Tony. He could multitask: search information on our dead petty officer _and_ talk about me at the same time.

I got to Abby's lab and handed her the evidence.

"Thanks, Ziva!" she said. "What brings you down here?"

"Oh, I just thought I would bring you the crime scene evidence today, so that Gibbs, Tony, and McGee don't have to do it."

She raised an eyebrow at me. It probably didn't sound realistic enough, but I sure hoped I was convincing enough. There was a seemingly long moment of silence between the two of us before I shrugged and said, "What?"

"That's so… _unlike_ you." She frowned. "Are you alright? Do you feel, like, sick or something?"

"What would make you think I am sick, Abby?"

"It's possible. Sometimes people don't know what they're saying when they're sick."

I glared at her for a little bit, but she only gave me that happy glare back. "What is it about me that people think I am sick or acting weird?"

Abby furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Even Tony said I was acting weird today," I said. I would not say _weird_, exactly. My mind was just on other things that really did not concern any of them. Why couldn't they just accept that?

"Tony said that?" Abby said. "Wow…."

"Wow what, Abby?"

"If Tony said you're acting hinky, it's because there's probably something going on with you. I mean, big whoop if only one person notices it, you know? But two people noticing it… something's up." She leaned against a table and folded her arms across her chest. "Anything on your mind lately? Something you want to talk about?"

I briefly looked at the floor and then met her eyes, which never left mine. "Maybe I just need a vacation," I said.

She raised an eyebrow, but she looked far from surprised at my words. "Why? Ziva, you're scaring me."

I laughed incredulously, but I barely bought my own act. "Abby, please," I nearly rolled my eyes at her. "I am fine. There is no sense in worrying about me if nothing is wrong. Everything is fine. I promise." For now.

She looked at me for a few moments and softened up. "If you say so," she said reluctantly. "I hope you're right. Now go. You have work to do and I do, too." She smiled at me and I forced myself to smile back.

As I was about to leave, she called me. "Oh, Ziva?"

I stopped and turned. "Yes, Abby?"

"I'm here if you want to talk about anything. Just thought I'd let you know that … I'm here for you." She smiled again, but it was a sweet, sincere smile.

I smiled back, and I would have liked to have thought it was a smile that mirrored hers. "Thanks, Abby."

I left her office and headed straight to the bathroom. McGee, Gibbs, and Tony were probably wondering where I went by now. To Gibbs, it was mostly just a matter of dropping off the evidence and coming back. It was not "take-a-break" time, or anything along the lines of that. Still, they would have to wait.

The bathroom was empty, to my advantage. I pulled out the yellow camera from my NCIS jacket pocket and turned it on. My eyes opened wide almost immediately.

I was pretty horrified to discover that all the pictures had been erased from the camera's memory.

* * *

><p>I'd like to thank all of you guys for reading, reviewing, alerting, and favoriting! It really means a lot to me! However, if you alertfavorite, please, please, _please _review! Reviews motivate me to continue, and they give me a better idea of what you guys might want to see happen next. So please review; it doesn't take long. :)


	3. The Other Girl

You guys are AMAZING! Thanks you all so much for your reviews. Please keep them coming! I'm leaving for the holidays Saturday morning, so I'll try and update with a new chapter before then. If not, I wish you all a very merry Christmas! You guys all rock! I hope you enjoy the chapter and please don't forget to leave a review! :)

…..

:: Chapter 3 – The Other Girl ::

Tony had to have been playing games with me. He just had to. I do not know how, but he was somehow one step ahead of me. He probably thought it was funny to mess with me and play games with me. One of the first thoughts I had on my mind was to send this to Abby and have her check it for more fingerprints aside from my own. But I quickly pushed that thought away when I reminded myself that I did not want anyone else to know about this. Nobody had to know about this.

When the time came, I would get DiNozzo.

I was barely convinced that this was merely one of Tony's childish games. He was a great actor, we all knew that, but something else continued to tell me that there was more to this than it seemed. Maybe he had nothing to do with this at all. And then again, maybe there was an error with the camera. I wasn't a technology geek like McGee, but knew enough to know that even cameras could sometimes malfunction.

I turned off the camera and turned it back on. Still, there was nothing. I sighed. I just knew Gibbs was going to send Tony to hunt me down in the bathroom if I did not come back to the bullpen. Sulking, I shut the camera off once again and slipped it into my NCIS jacket. I left the bathroom and went back to the bullpen.

Sure enough, Tony was almost making his way out of the bullpen to come find me, and we ended up nearly running into each other.

"Where have you been?" he asked me. "You were supposed to hand the evidence to Abby and come back! Gibbs was almost about to slap me and McGee because _you_ weren't here!"

"I was in the bathroom, Tony," I explained calmly. I was far from calm, though.

"Does it take that long to go to the bathroom, Ms. _Dah_-veed?"

"It does. I am a woman."

Tony raised an eyebrow at me, but let it drop. I walked past him and up to where Gibbs and McGee were. They were looking at information on our dead petty officer on the plasma screen. When I walked in, they both looked at me. I played it casual. I could not let them know that with every passing second, more and more worry clouded my mind.

"Does it take fifteen minutes to go and drop something off at Abby's lab, Ziva?" Gibbs asked me. I wasn't sure if his question was rhetorical or not. He did not stop staring at me after a few moments, so I guessed it wasn't.

"I went to the bathroom, Gibbs," I said again. "I dropped the evidence at Abby's lab and she asked me something so I stayed a little bit to talk to her. I must have lost track of time, I guess, and when I left her lab and went to the bathroom." I gave him a very slight shrug and mumbled, "Sorry."

"Never apologize," he reminded me. "It's a sign of weakness."

I gave a small nod. He was still glaring at me, and his eyes were searching into mine for answers, or probably just anything that told him that what I was saying wasn't completely true. He wasn't fully convinced, if at all. I knew he was studying me, my body language, and any abnormal facial gesture I would make that told him part of what he wanted to know. There was nothing for him to know. There was nothing DiNozzo, or McGee, or Abby needed to know either. I was fine. This was a joke. In a few days, Tony would come up to my desk, give me that smile that always makes me want to melt, and say, "April fools," even though it was not April.

Even that ridiculous thought sounded more convincing than anything else running through my head. I just had a hard time believing it.

"And, Ziva?"

I looked up at him. Tony and McGee also seemed to be studying me, but not to Gibbs's extent.

"It's not break time. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, Gibbs," I said sheepishly, feeling a little embarrassed.

* * *

><p>After all evidence pointed to our killer, thanks to Abby, we brought him in to interrogation. Tony, McGee, and I stood in the observation room, waiting for Gibbs to begin the questioning. Besides the fact that the man was sweating bullets, he already looked guilty as hell. The waiting was simply causing him to break apart and lose his cool slowly.<p>

"I love this part," Tony commented after a few minutes of ongoing silence.

"He has not said anything yet," I pointed out.

"Exactly," he grinned. "Gibbs doesn't always need to say something for someone to confess. I mean, look at that guy. He's ready to crack any second now."

The three of us watched curiously at what was about to unfold before us. It only took one sentence from Gibbs before the guy indeed broke down and confessed to everything. I watched, quite simply amazed. McGee's eyebrows were raised, and he seemed to be somewhat stunned. Tony just laughed in amusement.

"What a pussy," he said.

"Pussy?" I asked. "Like a pussycat?"

Both men exchanged looks. "No," Tony said. "Pussy like… a wimp. A dork, if you will. Something like what McDork is sometimes."

"Hey!" McGee shot back. It was my turn to watch them, amused. "I am not a pussy, Tony! Don't call me that."

Tony merely shrugged, but I could tell at that moment that he respected McGee's wishes to not be called that anymore. He just would not actually show it. "Whatever, McCan't-take-a-joke."

We were able to leave soon. I could not believe how quickly this case had gone by. After the interrogation and everything that followed, McGee announced that he was heading home and I said good-bye to him. I went back to my desk, followed by Tony, and decided to continue on some paperwork I still had left to do. Tony sat down on his desk chair and decided to do some paperwork as well – or, I assumed, he tried.

"Well, that was quick," he mused out loud. "Gibbs is practically almighty."

"Are you going to reference some movie now?" I asked him with a hint of sarcasm. Besides cracking jokes and flirting with women, Tony was also good at constantly coming up with some movie to compare life's current events with, no matter how much people willed him to shut up for once.

"I wasn't going to," he said and looked at me. I could see it from the corner of my eye. "Unless you want me to."

"No," I said sharply. I continued to type away at my computer, trying to ignore the fact that he was staring _right at me_ and wasn't even trying to be discreet about it.

"You know, Ziva…" he went on after a rather uncomfortable silence fell between us, "you are the weirdest Israeli I've ever met. Really, you are."

I looked at him. "Is that supposed to be a compliment? Words of comfort, perhaps?"

A very small smirk – or maybe it was a smile, I don't know – graced his lips. "Comfort?" he repeated. "Why do you need comfort? You need comforting? Are you sad?"

I should not have said that. Too bad I realized it too late. I did not think I had said anything that sounded out of place. "I am not sad, Tony," I said. "I was just asking a question."

"With a good reason, too, I'm sure," he finished. He stood up from his desk and made his way over to mine. For some reason, I avoided making eye contact with him, even though his eyes were fixated on mine. He sat at the edge of my desk and looked at me. If I continued to avoid his glare, he would get even more suspicious than he probably already was, so I decided to look at him. His beautiful green eyes were full of concern for me. I knew he was trying to read me like an open book. Any other day, I would have loved the attention I was getting from him, but not today. Not right now. I had a feeling that he just wanted to reach out and tousle my hair just to get me to smile and act normal. I loved this side of Tony. It was the more human side of him, his mature side. The side of him that was manlier than the act he, more often than not, put up.

Unfortunately, that feeling a girl could only get when she thinks she is falling in love for the first time in her life was quickly replaced with anxiety. I tried to mask it, but I was sure that some of it still seeped out and showed in my eyes, my face, and my body language. If I had been able to mask it better, Tony would have let me be a long time ago.

"You know, Ziva, you've been acting kind of strange all day," he said, hints of gentleness in his voice.

"How so?" I countered.

"I don't know, I… I don't really know how to explain it," he said. "It's like… you've been acting a little… I don't know… distant, kinda. I don't know how to explain it. It's just weird."

"Maybe I am fine. Maybe you just need to get some rest and stop thinking that any little change in my emotions is automatically _weird_."

He ignored that. "Is there anything on your mind?" he asked me. "Anything bothering you? Something you wanna get off your chest? Are you sad? Heartbroken? Anxious? Nervous? None of the above? All of the above? I'm all ears, Ziva."

I glared at him for a few seconds. His concern was magnificent. I wished he was like that more often. For a moment, I wanted to tell him about what had continuously been flooding my mind throughout the day, and hear him tell me that I was just overreacting and that there was absolutely nothing to worry about. But I retreated and settled with a sigh.

"There is nothing wrong with me, Tony. I am tired. It has been quite a long day. I am just going to finish up this file and then I am going home."

I saw him processing this information in his head. "Alright," he said finally. "If you want to talk, I'm listening, Ziva. I'm just a call away. Unless we're here in the office, then I'm just like two feet away or whatever." He got up from my desk and headed over to his. He began to pack up to get ready to leave.

"Thanks, Tony," I said. "Abby already told me the same thing."

He looked at me as he gathered his belongings. He never pushed the matter any further than what was typically expected of him, but I realized that I probably should have left that part out. He would only get more suspicious.

"Night, Zee-vah," he said as he began to head out. "See you in the _ma__ñ__ana_."

"Good night, Tony," I replied. When he was gone, I really wished he would have stayed a little while longer. Just having him in the same room as me was good enough for me.

* * *

><p>The car ride home was boring and lonely. I thought I was going to be able to stand the silence, but eventually I gave up and turned the radio on. I had to listen to something to calm my nerves. When I got home, I felt a little compelled to check that yellow camera again. So I did.<p>

This camera did not cease to surprise me, in a not-so-good kind of way. It had just only been about twenty-four hours since I discovered it, too. I wondered if this meant that I was going to die a slow painful death. There really was no reason for me to think that (not yet, anyway), but I could not help but think to myself. I was, after all, in the comfort of my own home, so why not?

There were five new pictures in the camera. The illogical side continued to pester me by saying that this was all Tony. But how could it have been Tony? After I went to the bathroom and discovered that all of yesterday's pictures had been erased, the camera stayed with me the whole time. There was no way he could have done this.

My stomach was churning again. I looked through the pictures. Two of them were of Tony dressed in an anything-but-appealing clown suit. Normally, I would have laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. Yes, he looked outrageous in that suit, and maybe a little comical, but I had a nagging feeling that one of these days, he was going to show up in that exact same clown suit; and when I asked him why he was wearing that clown suit again, he would reply that he has never worn it before.

The last three pictures were of Abby and another girl. She was a few inches shorter than the forensic scientist, with long, brown, slightly wavy hair. She was thin and the scientist was styling her hair into two high ponytails on either side of her head, ready to braid them. She was going to look just like Abby, except the only difference was that she had no bangs. I looked at the last picture, which showed Abby's finished product on the other girl. Neither girl seemed to acknowledge the camera there, but Abby stood beside her grinning widely from ear to ear. She must have been pleased with her work. The other girl looked a little troubled and possibly even scared.

I instantly felt a little sick. I had never worn my hair like that before. The other girl was me.


	4. Class Clowns

:: Chapter 4 – Class Clowns ::

I woke up with a start the next morning, almost dreading the day to come. When I saw how foggy the window was, I knew it was cold outside again. Sure enough, when I checked the weather channel, it was about thirty degrees. The temperature had not dropped much since the day before. I sighed to myself before I went about my morning routine, my mind whirling with thoughts once again.

When I arrived at NCIS, the only person there was McGee. With all the years I have had working here, I learned to get accustomed to begin working later than 0500 hours, and for that reason, I did not understand why McGee was usually so early. Normally, he was there before me. He must go to sleep really early every night and wake up, on his own, early in the morning to get to work early. The thought of waking up as early as he made me even more exhausted than I already was.

"Morning, Ziva," he said, glancing up from his computer screen.

"Good morning, McGee," I answered tiredly. There was no enthusiasm in my voice – so I came to realize – and this made him look at me in curiosity. At least, I thought I saw a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Okay, and maybe there was some concern, too.

He furrowed his brow and said, "You okay?"

I was beginning to wonder when he would ask that. Gibbs, Tony, and Abby already had. I could not wait till Director Vance, Ducky, and Palmer asked me, too. I dumped my bag on the floor and looked at him. I flopped down on my chair, started up my computer, and snapped, "Yes, McGee. I am fine. Why does everyone keep asking me that? Do I look like there is something wrong with me?"

He raised an eyebrow now. "No… Yes… Maybe – I-I don't know." He stopped himself, but went on shortly, "Wait a minute. Who's everyone else? Other people are asking you if you're okay, too?"

"Yes!" I answered, flailing my arms around like an idiot. "I mean, really, if there is something that looks off about me, I would like to know!"

McGee was staring at me now. "But…" he began, but trailed off after that. I could see that he was carefully choosing his next words before saying anything – something completely foreign to Tony. "Ziva… if other people have been asking you if you're okay, is 'cause something _is_ wrong."

My jaw dropped incredulously – and maybe a little overdramatically too – and I went about flailing my arms again. "That is exactly what Abby said!" I said defensively. I felt bad later on about exploding at him like that, but at the moment, I thought nothing of it. I just wanted to prove to everyone that there was nothing wrong with me and that my sanity was still steadily in place. Sadly, that was a miserable and clearly failed attempt.

"Then I think you have some unresolved issues, Ziva…" he muttered and quickly turned back to his computer.

"What did you say, McGee?" I snapped at him. I had heard him, but I was becoming irritated and it kind of slipped out.

"I-I-I… uhh… I was just saying that-uhh… umm…. Nothing." His eyes became glued to the monitor before him and he became quiet. I did not hear anything coming from him until Tony walked in around half an hour later. I decided not to continue torturing him further, and instead, turned to my computer.

Possibly more than the day itself, I was dreading DiNozzo's arrival. I knew what was about to happen, but what if it did not happen today? What if it happened the day after? The worst part was knowing that something was going to happen, but knowing exactly when.

Around half an hour after McGee decided to shut up and not saying anything else, creating a rather awkward silence between us (which could have been a lot worse, in all honesty), Tony walked in. I heard the elevator ding and instantly knew it was him. I prepared for the worst. I busied myself at my computer, pretending to be doing something very important, just to avoid confirming my fears.

From the corner of my eye, I could see McGee look up from his screen, stop, and stare. I knew it. I looked up and, indeed, Tony was dressed in the most ridiculous clown suit I had ever seen. I stared because that was about all I could do. I must have definitely been destined to die a slow painful death, and again, I wondered what the hell that had to do with anything.

After a minute of just plain staring, it seemed to become a staring contest: who could stare at Tony the longest without breaking into a fit of hysterical laughter. Well, apparently, it was me, because after Tony flopped down on his chair as though everything was completely normal, saw our faces, and asked what was up with us, McGee burst out in laughter. I just stared.

"What is so funny, McLaughter?" Tony said.

"Tony, why are you dressed like a clown?" I asked, not even cracking a smile or anything. He looked comical, yes, but nothing struck me as funny.

"Oh, this old thing?" he said as McGee's laughter continued to resound throughout the bullpen. "A friend of mine dared me to do this. I spoke to him last night and he told me he'd give one-hundred bucks to come to work in a clown suit. And McGee was the first one to laugh – which I knew was going to happen – so that's an extra thirty bucks for me."

"What about Ziva?" McGee asked him in between laughter.

"What _about_ Ziva?" Tony asked, and for a moment, I swear he sounded protective.

"You didn't bet on her reaction?"

"No. Neither one of us was sure about what kind of reaction she'd have so we just dropped that." I could not help but wonder if I knew this friend of his that apparently seemed to know me well enough to not be sure of what my reaction towards Tony's outrageous clown suit would be. "But it's easy to see through _you_, McPredictable, so we had to go for it."

McGee stopped laughing and glared at Tony. "Hey," he protested, but never finished. Tony just smiled at him toothily. I looked at them both for a few moments longer and returned to my paperwork without another word.

No sooner than that did I hear the faint smacking of their lips against each other, and I knew they were mouthing things to each other. They were probably talking about me. I let it slide for a few seconds, but then sent a glare towards McGee that was sure to make him drop dead in his chair, if that was even possible.

"Ziva," Tony called. I looked at him, eyeing the bright red wig he had on. It was a stupid clown suit and I wished he would just take it off. "Are you PMS'ing or something?"

Even McGee's jaw dropped at the straightforwardness of his question. I sent a glare his way, but it had no effect on him. Normally, a stare from me would have some kind of effect on him, but I guess it did not when he could see that something was on my mind and that that was the reason for me being so snappy that morning.

"Excuse me?" I said anyway.

"Well… I was just wondering… you know…" He was stuttering worse than when McGee saw a cute girl.

"You do realize that I have connections, right? I could kill you, make it look like an accident, hide all forensic evidence, and make sure no one even notices that you have disappeared."

He looked scared for his life, which amused me, to a certain extent. He looked cute when he pulled that face.

Gibbs walked into the bullpen, a cup of a coffee in hand. "Oh, I'm sure that Abby would love to help you with that," he quipped as he walked over to his desk. He set his cup of coffee down, sat at his desk, turned on his computer, and began to work on some paperwork. He did not seem to acknowledge Tony's clown suit.

Tony and McGee exchanged confused glances with each other and with me. Was Gibbs going blind?

A few minutes later, with his face still buried into a file on his desk and without looking up, he said, "DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, boss?" came the uncertain reply.

"Why do you have a clown suit on?" He was as cool as a cucumber.

McGee and I looked at him. I wondered how he was going to tell Gibbs what he told us without sounding stupid in the process.

"Well, boss… uhh… I was talking to my friend last night and he… he told me he'd give me one-hundred bucks if I came to work in a clown suit."

Gibbs looked up at him, and I honestly expected for him to bark at him to _get changed, damn it_. He smirked at him and said, "It looks good." So predictably unpredictable, as was the norm.

I was confused. This was a work setting and DiNozzo came in a clown suit – let me just say that again: _a clown suit_ – and this was how Gibbs was reacting? Then again, with Gibbs, the phrase "expect the unexpected" came to life.

"Really?" Tony asked, surprised. He almost did not believe it.

"Yep. You should wear that more often. That red wig really brings out your eyes."

"_Really?_" Tony smiled, as though he was actually flattered. He probably really was. McGee was freaked out. I raised my eyebrows. I wondered if Tony noted the sarcasm hidden underneath Gibbs's joking tone. "Well, thank you, boss. That's sweet of you. I think you're starting to get the hang of the Christmas spirit." I could not help but roll my eyes at this. He was clueless.

"Boss…" McGee began to protest, "if I had been the one wearing that clown suit, you would have slapped me and told me to go change."

"Yeah, and?"

McGee just stared on, his mouth hanging open.

"You better close your mouth, McGee, or flies will get in."

I stifled a laugh and went back to my paperwork.

* * *

><p>"Zivazivazivazivazivaaaaa!"<p>

I looked up and saw Abby frantically running towards me. Everyone turned to look at her and her obvious enthusiasm. This was not weird or unnatural of her to do so, but none of us were certainly expecting her excitement on a day that had been slow so far.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you busy?" she asked me, grinning widely. "I mean, like, really, _really_ busy?"

"No…."

She smiled even wider (if that was even possible), grabbed my arm, and tugged at it. "Great! Come with me! I have something I want to show you."

I glanced around at the team uncertainly, and I was almost sure that there was panic in my eyes. McGee hurriedly turned to his computer screen, as he resumed typing madly like had been before. Gibbs probably did not even steal a glance at all. And Tony looked entertained, to say the least. He looked like he could not wait to see what Abby had to show me and what we were going to do in her lab alone, together.

Abby dragged me to her lab and closed the door. She turned to me, still smiling broadly. I was quite afraid. Abby was not the killing type, but, then again, people surprised me more and more each day.

"Abby… do you need help with something?"

"Nope," she said, the smile never leaving her face. She left it at that, the curiosity eating at me. I hoped this was not what I thought it would be.

"Okay, so…?"

The smile left her face momentarily as she began to explain her reason for me being there. "Okay, so… yesterday I decided to start writing a short story. I don't know why; inspiration just struck me. It was like I was taking a shower, and I suddenly got this really awesome idea for a short story, so I stopped taking a shower and went outside to start writing. I don't know how to explain it! It was just something that hit me, like boom! You know what I mean? Have you ever had one of those moments where you're just really inspired and you have to just stop what you're doing and–"

"Abby," I interrupted her. Really, the suspense was killing me, and besides, I was in no mood to have her tell me stories about things that were not relevant to her point.

"Right, sorry," she said. "Anyway, I thought of the lead character for the story, and, as for physical appearance, I was thinking of a girl I met in high school once, but when I wrote down what she would look like, I realized, I pretty much described you!" I raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "There's just one difference: she wears pigtails like mine and you don't!"

"Alright…. And your point is…?"

"Well, I need to draw her out," she said. "And I just can't do that by placing your face in my head, and looking at pictures of me. I need to take pictures of the full package."

I stared at her blankly. I knew where this was going to lead to, of course I did. I just thought that perhaps I could trick myself into believing that maybe it would not happen. But, God, she looked so happy and excited, and I would have hated to be the one to kill her joy.

"What are you saying, Abby?"

"I want your full permission to style your hair and take pictures of you," she said and smiled once more.

I gaped at her for a little bit before making a dash for the door. I did not know why I thought I could escape. Abby was right on my tail instantly, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. "Come on, Ziva!" she whined. "You're the only girl friend I've got for this. Please do this for me? Please? Pleasepleaseplease?" She stuck out her lower lip and innocently and sweetly looked at me.

I did not want to say no to her. I _could_ _not_ say no to her. We endured what felt like a minute of staring at each other – I was debating everything in my head, and she was looking at me hopefully – and finally, I sighed in defeat. She took the hint and squealed.

"Yay, Ziva! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She pulled me into a tight hug, nearly squeezing the life out of me. When she let me go, she reached for one of her storage boxes, opened it, and pulled out a hair straightner, two combs and a hairbrush, and a pack of hair ties. "Let's do it right now! The sooner we do it, the faster we get it over with."

* * *

><p>It took Abby about forty minutes to straighten my entire hair before she used the first comb to part my hair in half. When she was done pulling my hair into two high ponytails that mirrored hers, not only did I feel my dignity slowly leave me, but she also began to braid them each. When she finished completely, she led me to a mirror I never knew she had and let me take a look at myself. It was horrible, but I could not tell her that. Well, the work she had done, per say, was not horrible. But <em>I <em>looked horrible. This style was just not me.

I looked at her, standing beside me, through the mirror. She looked happy and excited, and was beaming from ear to ear. I studied my own reflection in the mirror. I looked disturbed and uneasy. I felt I had every reason to be.

"You look so cute, Ziva! We look like twins! All you need is an outfit like mine and some heels to match my height and we'll look like twins for sure! Hey, have you ever thought about getting some bangs…?"

"No! I am sorry, Abby, but I draw the line at getting bangs. I am perfectly fine with no bangs," I said. Really? Bangs?

Abby shrugged, unaffected. "Alright. Let me get my camera."

As if he had perfect timing, Tony walked into Abby's lab, still with his ridiculous clown suit on. He smiled upon seeing the forensic scientist's finished product on me. "Well, would you look at that!" he boomed, and I inwardly groaned to myself. This was the last thing I needed. "Is it like a national twin day or something? Cuz if it is, I didn't get that memo. McGee could've gone as my twin."

Abby found her camera and went over to him. "Good morning, Tony! Nice clown suit."

"Morning, Abbs. Thanks. What did you do to Ziva?"

"I need her for a character I'm making."

"Okay… what character?"

She explained to him as she snapped a couple of pictures of me from what felt like every inch of my body. When she was done, Tony said, "Send me one those pictures, Abbs. I want to hang it up on my desk."

Couldn't he ever ask for a better picture of me, and not one where I looked like a nerd?

"No," I said sharply. "Abby, do not send him any of those pictures. Delete them when you are done with them."

She looked at me, hurt. "Why? You don't like your braids, Ziva?"

I was about to answer, but I stopped myself. She really did not know that I did not like them? The fact that I tried to make a run for the door was not enough for a hint? I looked at Tony for some kind of support, but he continued to look at the scene unfolding before us in delight. "Abby, I like the braids. I think you did a good job at it." She looked unconvinced. As soon as I opened my mouth to try and explain it to her, as well as go around the truth without actually having to lie, Gibbs walked in to the lab. I was saved by the bell.

"Can someone explain to me why we've been called in to a murder at Quantico and the only ones there are me and McGee?" he said. He did not even stop to stare at me.

"Sorry, boss," Tony said hurriedly.

"Sorry, Gibbs," Abby said, "I was just borrowing Ziva for a while."

He gave a nod and said, "Let's go."

Tony and I followed Gibbs out the lab. We made it back to the bullpen, only to find McGee was not there. He must have been in the van waiting for us.

"Where's McGee?" Tony asked.

"In the van," Gibbs answered. He picked up his coat and his cup of coffee and began to walk out. I grabbed my things. Tony, however, did not.

"Wait, boss," he called out, "can I go change real quick before we leave? I have my clothes with me."

"Nope," Gibbs called back as he neared the elevator. "You're staying like that, DiNozzo."

"But, boss–"

"No buts, DiNozzo. Not my problem you insisted on coming in a clown suit to work for a hundred dollars."

Tony's mouth was hanging open, and I couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Do you realize how stupid I'm going to look?" he said out loud as he picked up his things and began to head out. Gibbs had already taken the elevator and so we had to wait for it.

"Yeah, Tony, you are going to look like a clown," I joked. I felt bad for him, but Gibbs had a point. I wondered how he was going to be able to live down the fact that he had to attend a crime scene looking absolutely absurd. I knew for a fact that I was not going to be the only one taking pictures of him. McGee would gladly do so, too.

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you, Pippi Longstocking."

I scowled at him, but I don't think he noticed it. In the van, McGee had claimed his spot in the front, so I decided to ride in the back. After Gibbs ordered me to remove the stupid braids, and all the dumb clown jokes that followed Tony's appearance, as well as my own braids, I swear I heard McGee say something that sounded like "Mr. and Mrs. Class Clowns."

I frowned to myself. I was not fond of the clown part.


	5. Undefined

I couldn't resist throwing some Tiva fluff in here, although there will be way more Tiva in future chapters. Please review, guys; I have to be kept motivated, and I'm ejoying this story way too much to stop now. I'd like to thank all my reviewers, as well as the ones who favorite and alert. But, please, take a moment to let me know what you think. I whole-heartedly appreciate it.

…..

:: Chapter 5 – Undefined ::

Tony tried to talk to me at the crime scene, but I simply could not take him seriously with a clown suit on. I waved everything he had to say off dismissively and went about taking pictures of our dead marine while he bagged and tagged. Every time he approached me and started talking (or tried), I would simply laugh and say something along the lines of how silly he looked. I could not tell if it made him mad or not, but I assumed later on that that was the least of his worries. Once we were back at NCIS, and Tony was finally able to change from the stupid clown suit he was wearing, the staring began and so did the questioning.

McGee, Tony, and I were looking for background information on our marine. I could feel Tony's eyes on me, the constant on and off staring, as he tried to play it cool. I ignored it. I pretended like I had no clue he was even acknowledging my presence. We never stopped talking or paused or anything like that, so McGee did not seem to notice Tony staring at me. It was beginning to drive me insane, but I played it cool. I had to.

At one point, however, I decided I needed to get away from them. Gibbs was out, probably down in autopsy, and so I told them I needed to go to the bathroom. Tony was still wordlessly looking at me, but McGee paused a little, looked at me, and said, "Alright. Just be back before Gibbs comes back and finds that you're not here."

I was not in the bathroom for too long before Tony came inside. I was inside the stall, just sitting on the toilet. I did not really have to go to the bathroom, but I did feel I needed to be there. I never really saw too many women enter the bathroom, so whenever there was something on my mind, other people noticed it, I went to the bathroom to cool out, and someone followed me, I knew it was Tony. He was the only person who would ever follow me into the bathroom – and vice versa – without caring that he was in the opposite sex's bathroom.

"Ziva?" I heard his voice. He must have looked under the doors to look at my feet, because soon after he called me, he stopped right in front of the door of the stall I was in and said, "Ziva, I know you're in there."

"God, Tony, can you let me pee in peace?" I answered.

"I know you're not peeing; you're not even taking a crap," came his reply. Had I become that predictable or what?

"What do you want?"

"I want to talk."

"We are talking right now."

He sighed. "You know what I mean."

"Why are you on my case so much? Have I done something to upset you?"

"No, you've done something to worry me."

"Why are you worried?"

"Come out and we'll talk."

"You come in and we will talk."

I could almost feel him grinning at that. "Is that an invitation?" he said.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. If it had not been for Gibbs's rule twelve, I probably would have let him inside the stall. It was not like he, of all people, would have minded that. I knew I did not mind myself. I got up and unlocked the door. I walked out of the stall and stood before him as he turned to me.

"Aren't you gonna wash your hands?" he asked me.

I furrowed by brows just a little. "I did not do anything," I said.

"So you admit it. You came in here to hide."

"Hide? You think I was hiding? From what, Tony?"

"That's a good question." Our eyes met for a few moments, and his were like an open window to his soul. I could see all the worry and concern that lay behind his beautiful green eyes. All that concern was for me. To know that a man would gladly stop everything in his path and everything he was doing to find out what was wrong with me, was endearing at its worst. When I thought of it like that, it made my heart flutter. I quickly looked down, because if I looked any longer, I would probably have spilled everything I was trying my hardest to contain.

He did not wait for me to continue. "You didn't think my clown suit was funny," he said, and I knew it was a statement, not a question.

I looked up at him again. "What?"

"This morning," he went on. "When I came in the clown suit. McGee started laughing and you didn't."

"Am I supposed to think every childish thing you do is funny?"

"No," he admitted. "But you should when it's done in good humor."

"Tony, you looked absolutely ridiculous dressed as a clown. I sincerely hope that I never have to see you in anything like that every again. That was like eye rape."

"And for that reason alone, you should think it's funny," he said. The only thing that was "funny" here was the fact that he did not know the real reason I did not think his clown attire was funny. "Gibbs wouldn't let me change into my regular clothes. You should have been laughing your head off at me having to go to a crime scene looking really, really stupid. I tell ya, McGee is never going to let me live that down."

"Maybe I am not in the mood to laugh," I told him. "Everyone has an off day."

"That's true, everyone does. But you can tell when someone's having an off day and when something is bothering that person."

Our eyes met once again and locked. He took my right hand with his left and intertwined his fingers with mine. His right hand went up to caress my face, rubbing his thumb once under my eye and across my cheek, as though he was wiping tears away. The contact made me shudder as a chill ran down my spine and I thought he felt it. I shut my eyes tight and leaned into his chest. Our intertwined hands dropped to our sides, never breaking contact, and his free arm went around me. I took in his scent, a familiar one that filled my nostrils in delight. I did not want to leave. I wanted to stay like this forever. I could see this in my future. Just not in work bathroom setting.

His arm moved from the small of my back up to my hair, which I had let loose once we were back at NCIS. He worked his fingers through, untangling some tangled bits of hair. I could feel every gentle pull, but it was relaxing. Had we not been standing up, and in a bathroom, might I add, I would have been lulled to sleep here, in his embrace, in his arms. It was perfect. Almost.

Tony exhaled softly and said, "What's on your mind, Zee?"

"Nothing, Tony," I murmured, suddenly longing a good night's sleep. "I am tired."

"And I'm not buying that."

A tear slipped past my eye and trailed down my cheek. I could not help it. It may have been too early to cry and I may have suddenly felt absolutely vulnerable, but I really just could not help it. He noticed that my voice was shaky when I spoke next. "You would not understand."

Okay, so I lied. He would have understood me. That he would have believed me is a completely different thing.

"Then explain it to me."

"I cannot," I said. "Perhaps I will tell you when I am ready."

That depended on whether I would ever be ready. To my surprise, he did not press the matter any further. He rubbed my back a little and, placing a finger under my chin, he turned my head to face him. He wiped away the tear trail on my cheek with his thumb. "I'll be ready when you are."

I nodded, fighting back the avalanche of tears that threatened to come next. I had already let one escape, and, if anything, I was determined to fight back the rest for now. I was ready to thank him, but he continued, cutting me off before I even began.

"Ziva, just so you know, I'm your partner. I'm here for you, and I still have your back. If there's ever anything you want to talk about, I'm always listening. Don't forget that."

I nodded again, still fighting back the tears. "Thank you, Tony," I said shakily, almost a whisper. "I appreciate it."

He stole one more loving and concerned glance at me before he pressed his soft lips against my temple, in an affectionate kiss. I melted right there under his warmth. The only thing keeping up on my feet was gravity. He briefly ran his hand up my arm before Gibbs entered the bathroom. Tony turned around in alarm to look at him, but all he did was stare right back at us.

"What the hell are you two doing here in the bathroom?" he said uncharacteristically.

"Boss, i-it's not what it looks like," Tony tried to explain.

Gibbs only glared at us. I stepped in to try and help.

"Gibbs, I had to go to the bathroom and Tony… he came to talk to me," I said.

"Does this look like break time?" he said.

"No," we both answered in unison.

"Then get the hell back to work before I fire you both," he nearly barked, and no sooner than that, Tony and I both scurried out of the bathroom with Gibbs right behind us. At that moment, a woman was about to enter the bathroom, but when she saw the three of us stepping out, she stopped and stared at us. I wonder what she must have been thinking.

"I hope she didn't think we were having a threesome in there," Tony commented when we were out of her earshot. That comment earned him a well-deserved head slap.

That was a very disturbing thought.

* * *

><p>One week later, I found myself with an ever-growing headache that could only be tamed with an Advil, which helped for a while. But the headache always found its way back. I was losing sleep and the team was beginning to notice. I was getting bags underneath my eyes and my eyes were starting to become somewhat bloodshot. Tony was the one that constantly pointed all that out. At first, I was annoyed that he so blatantly pointed out how dreadful I looked, but eventually got over it. I had no other choice. He was right. Had it not been for the make-up I applied on myself, I would have looked like the living dead.<p>

In fact, the side of me that was struggling to hold on to a thread called sanity said that I should have my own psychic show. I already knew most of what was going to happen, but no one else knew that I knew. I was anything but amused when I saw these things happen. They only led me to dwell on a slow, painful death of mine. I do not know why I kept on thinking about that, but I could not help it.

The camera was becoming somewhat of an addiction – a very terrible addiction. I hated myself for looking all the time, but I had to. Something drew me to it. But the pictures began to get weird – weirder than usual, that is. It would show me pictures of our next case victims. I saw the pictures of dead marines and petty officers and lieutenants before they died. My heart raced ten miles a minute when I saw those pictures and when we arrived at the crime scene, my heart dropped and my breath caught in my throat. The reality was harsh and cold and in my face.

I could not believe this was happening to me, whatever this was. Of all people, too. There were times where I did not know whether to laugh or cry or do both at the same time.

Tony never stopped worrying, although he never admitted it. He did not have to say it. His looks said it all. He was worried, he was concerned, and he was waiting for me to be ready. I was not ready, and I did not know when I would be ready to tell him. It could have been never. Unfortunately, we never shared more moments between the two of us in the bathroom like we had one week before. It was a shame, really. I would have given just about anything to settle myself into his embrace again, and to know that I was safe and secure in his arms.

One particular snowy Sunday night, I saw something I did not want to see. I felt my body go numb. It was going to happen, I just did not know when. The pictures on my bright yellow Nikon camera (did I really just say that this camera was mine?) showed Gibbs's father, Jackson Gibbs, in the hospital. One picture, however, was completely white with only one word plastered on the center. It looked like it had to have been done on the computer. It read: Pneumonia.

It did not take long for me to put the pieces together. Gibbs's father was going to have pneumonia.

The next morning, Gibbs was the last one to walk into the bullpen, except, he did not come over to our section. He went straight upstairs to talk to the director. At the time, we did not know what he was up to, so McGee, Tony, and I all exchanged confused glances. My heart sunk because I had an idea of what was to come, but I could not be sure. I could never be sure.

"You think he might be seeing the director about putting a coffee vending machine right next to the elevator or something?" Tony said.

"That's stupid," McGee retorted. "I don't know, maybe he has some emergency or something."

Tony shrugged. "Maybe." He turned to me. "What do you think, Ziva?"

I looked up to see two curious sets of eyes looking back at me. "I do not know," I said. "I think McGee may be right."

"How bad can it be that he has to go see Vance?" Tony asked rhetorically. "I mean, really, he'd first see us before going to him."

"Maybe he has some business to take care of," McGee suggested.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"You never know; Gibbs is an unpredictable guy." He shrugged.

"How much do you wanna bet it has something to do with coffee?"

I rolled my eyes. Why did everything have to be tied to a bet with him? Either way, his bet never got placed because as soon as he said that, came Gibbs's smart-ass reply. "Zero," he said. "I'm out on an undefined leave as of right now."

"What?" Tony asked, shocked. "Why? Where ya headed to?"

"I have some family business to take care of," Gibbs told us. "I'm going to Stillwater and I don't know how long I'll be out. You're in charge, DiNozzo." He picked up a few things from his desk and then headed out.

McGee and Tony were more shocked than me. My stomach did a flip-flop and I hoped to God that Jackson Gibbs would be alright. I knew this was coming, but at the same time, I did not.


	6. Abby

Thank you, everyone, for your lovely reviews! They really motivate me to continue. :) I must, however, thank **DarkTwistedAngel **and **SavvyCatJ **for mentioning something in their last reviews that made me rearrange and plan some new things. If you guys aren't sure of what I'm talking about, PM me or something and I'll let you know. You won't find it in this chapter, but it will be in the next one, so thanks ahead of time for the suggestion. Anyway, this chapter may be just a little Abby-centric around the edges, perhaps if you squint or something. I hope you guys enjoy and please review.

…..

:: Chapter 6 – Abby ::

It had been two days since Gibbs left to Stillwater. The bullpen was never dull, but it seemed more tranquil in his absence. Things had been going fairly normal and, surprisingly, there were no head-slaps distributed – even if _DiNozzo_ was in charge. It was nearing twenty-hundred hours when Tony decided that enough was enough for the day. We had been wrapping up our latest case and typing up reports for what felt like forever.

"Okay, we're done here," Tony announced suddenly, slamming a case's folder on his desk shut and getting up from his chair. I briefly glanced at him and continued to type, and McGee, I was pretty sure, did the same.

"That's an order," Tony went on, but neither one of us barely paid him any attention. "We're done for today. It's getting late, I'm tired, and I'm hungry."

"In that case, good night, then, Tony," McGee said dismissively.

"See you tomorrow," I added.

"Let's go to dinner. I'm hungry."

"Only if you're paying, DiNozzo," McGee said.

I was able to catch Tony flash his infamous smile. "Of course, McYe-of-little-faith," he laughed. "I'm inviting everyone to dinner."

McGee looked at him doubtfully. "_Everyone?_ As in _everyone_ in the squad room?"

"Not _everyone_, McGee. You, Ziva, Abby, Ducky, and even the Autopsy Gremlin." He did not look too sure about asking Palmer to come join us. It struck me more as an act of courtesy, rather than _wanting_ to actually invite him over. "So what do you say?"

McGee a shot an uncertain look my way and I returned it. As he began to speak again and tell Tony that sure, he was up for it, I turned to shut down my computer. Tony asked me once more if I wanted to go to dinner with them. I looked up at him and told him yes. I even volunteered to go downstairs to Abby's lab and ask her. So I did.

Abby, I noticed, had been acting a tad bit off that day. Her music was not as loud as it normally was, and it was not the usual kind of music she always had on. It was a tad bit softer. She hadn't been off her game at all, but she had been acting a little strange. Something was bothering her, or at least plaguing her mind all day. When I entered her lab, she was at her desk, and when she saw me enter, she scrambled to close down whatever she was looking at in her computer.

"Hey, Abby," I said, a little unsure.

"Hey," she said back, and that was it.

"Tony's inviting us all to dinner," I told her. "I was wondering if you would like to come. It would be nice to have you there."

She began to gather her things, the same dull expression never leaving her face. "Who else is going?"

"McGee so far. He probably went to ask Ducky and Palmer if they want to come, too. So I am asking you."

She shrugged. "I guess I could go with you guys. I am kinda hungry."

"Do you want me to wait for you?" I asked.

"No, thanks," she said, somewhat curtly. "I'll meet you there. What restaurant are we going to?"

"I do not know."

"I'll call Tony once I'm in the parking lot," she said. "See you there." She avoided eye contact and subtly pushed me away. I hung back a few more seconds, but she barely acknowledged my presence at all. I had to wonder what was wrong with her and why she had been acting so weird, so I decided to ask her. Even then, she never met my gaze.

"Are you okay… Abby?"

"Fine," she said. "I'll meet you wherever it is we're going, Ziva."

I decided not to continue pestering her. I took that as a "Please get out of my lab and leave me alone," so I turned and left without another word and headed back up to the bullpen. There, I slipped on my coat and gathered my things to leave. Tony and McGee were not there, so I assumed they were either down at autopsy or leaving. I left the building thereafter and once I was settled in my car, I called Tony. I asked him what restaurant we would be meeting in and gave me the name and brief directions.

It was snowing again, and although it was not heavy, I still had to be careful. I was the first one to arrive at the restaurant. I did not spot anyone else's car there. I turned off my engine and patiently waited. About ten minutes later, two cars pulled into the parking lot and I recognized them as Tony's and McGee's car.

I got out of the car and they were doing the same.

"Where is Abby?" I asked when I caught up to them and we began to make our way towards the entrance.

"She called," Tony answered. "Said she was coming." We went inside and took a table for four, even if at that moment we were only three. According to McGee and Tony, Ducky and Palmer declined, so it was only going to be the four of us. In all honesty, I liked it that way. I would not have minded if either Ducky or Palmer had come, but when it was just the four of us, I could secretly pretend to myself that we were double dating. And, in a way, I did see it like that. We had taken a booth, and I sat with Tony. McGee was sitting alone, just waiting for Abby to come and take a seat next to him.

A waitress came to our table and took our drink orders, since none of us knew yet what we wanted to eat. It had been about ten minutes before Abby finally arrived and joined us. She took a seat next to McGee and set her purse next to her.

"Hey, guys," she greeted us. "Sorry I'm late. That stupid light on Granger takes like ten minutes to turn green." She paused, when she noticed we were all staring at her as she talked at the speed of light. "Where's Ducky and Palmer?"

"They declined," Tony said. "Palmer said he had to leave and Ducky wasn't in the mood. At least that's what he said."

"Do you think Ducky's found a girlfriend?" McGee asked.

"Ducky? Girlfriend?" Tony repeated, as though it were impossible. He probably just refused to believe that a man nearly twice his age could find a girlfriend before him. "Nah."

"What?" McGee said. "You don't think Ducky can find a girlfriend?"

"It's not that," Tony said. "It's just weird to think that he might be with someone. The man should be playing golf with people his age in, like, Florida or something."

"You are just jealous," I chimed in, "that Ducky can find a girlfriend before you."

McGee laughed, but Abby barely cracked a smile. Tony just stared at me and, very dryly, said, "Very funny, Ziva. You're just jealous that I'm jealous."

"That doesn't make any sense, Tony," McGee said.

"Yeah, and you just admitted that you are jealous," I added.

"I am not jealous, McWrong. I was merely saying that it's weird to think about Ducky with a woman."

"Why does it matter what Ducky is doing?" Abby finally spoke. "It's his life, no matter how old he is. If he wants to have a girlfriend, then who are we to judge?" I had to agree with her, but it did not stop me – and possibly McGee and Tony – from wondering what was going on with her. She proceeded to kick Tony, who was sitting across from her, underneath the table. The only way we knew she had kicked him was because his face twisted into that of surprise and pain, and we could hear the sound of her platform boots coming into harsh contact with his feet. "And what did I tell you about gossiping? I warned you about that, Tony, didn't I?"

The three of us were stunned into silence. Thankfully, the already-awkward moment was broken by the waitress who came and took Abby's drink order. She ordered water, since they did not have Caf-Pows.

"Do you need more time?" the waitress asked us.

"Yes, please," I said. "Thank you."

She left and another uncomfortable silence took over. I searched my mind for anything to say, but nothing came to mind. Tony still looked too shocked to speak, and McGee was very clearly wondering what could have possibly been wrong with Abby.

Still, he was the one who ended up breaking the silence. He cleared his throat and said, "So, uhh… anyone know what's up with Gibbs? I haven't heard from him since he left."

"Yeah…" Tony said as he eyed Abby suspiciously. She avoided eye contact with all of us. "His father's sick with pneumonia. He's staying with him at the hospital, and possibly till he recovers and is well enough to be alone."

McGee's face fell and his shoulders dropped. "You knew this?" he said accusingly.

"Yeah." Tony shrugged.

"Gee, thanks for letting us know what was going on with our boss," he snapped sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Tony shrugged casually.

"I hope his father is okay," I said honestly. It was ironic (to say the very least) that they did not know that I knew what was truly going on – even if it was just a scratch on the surface.

"I miss Gibbs," Abby said. It was weird when she spoke, and it added to the tension among us. None of us said anything right away because we did not want to say the wrong thing and upset her further. "It's weird when he's not around."

"He will be back soon, Abby," I told her, trying to be comforting. "And I am sure his father will be alright." _That_ I could not be sure of, but I sure hoped so.

The waitress came back with Abby's water and then asked what we wanted to order. We told her we needed more time because none of us had yet looked through the menu.

I wanted to ask Tony something about Gibbs, but decided against it. Instead, we all looked through our menus and decided on what we wanted.

"Order the cheapest thing on the menu," Tony said to us, which caused us all to look up at him in disbelief.

"You serious?" McGee asked, surprised.

"Why would you invite us somewhere to eat and then tells us to order the cheapest thing on the menu?" I asked rhetorically. "The cheapest thing is probably the kids' menu."

"Then I guess you're all gonna have to order from the kiddie menu."

"And what you're you gonna order?" McGee demanded, seemingly set off.

"Anything I want. I _am_ paying, Probie."

"That's not fair!" Abby said and kicked him under the table again. "I can get a better deal at McDonald's!"

I had to disguise my laughter. McGee did not look entirely sure of what was going on.

"God, you guys, don't get your panties in a bunch. I was just kidding. You can order whatever you want." He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

McGee and I exchanged a quick glance and went back to looking at our menus. When we finally got to eating about half an hour later, in which I ordered a simple cheeseburger with fries, we ate in silence. The only sounds were that of our chewing, the occasional sipping of our drinks, and the clanking of our silverware against our plates every now and then. I continued to expect Tony to do something stupid, like stick some fries up his nose and pretend he was a walrus, or make me lose my appetite by talking with his mouth full, telling a completely ridiculous story, and spitting food everywhere, but he remained silent. At least he enjoyed his food, and that much I was able to tell.

Abby was the first one to leave. I thought it was a bit discourteous of her to do so, but she thanked Tony after he got the check and headed out the door. She gave us no excuses; she just said she was going to leave, and thank you, Tony, for the food, and out she went.

Once he was sure she was gone, McGee turned to us and said, "Okay, what the hell is up with _her?_"

"Seriously! She kicked me twice!" Tony pouted like a child.

"She has been acting a little weird," I said.

"You think?" Tony snapped.

"Well, something is bothering her."

"The question is: what?" McGee rhetorically mused aloud, probably, most likely, to himself.

"Would we be asking if we knew, Captain Obvious?" Tony snapped.

McGee rolled his eyes. Soon after Tony paid, and McGee and I both put in something for the tip, the three of us exited the restaurant. We thanked him for the dinner. I was on my way to my car, but I asked first if they both had come together in the same car.

"God, no," McGee said. "Would I be alive if we had?"

"Hey," Tony said a little defensively, but with a hint of playfulness in his voice, "remember who just took you to dinner, Probie."

"Oh, I love the 'friendly' banter between you two," I chirped with the same amount of playfulness. "If I did not know any better, I would say you two are in love." With that and without stopping to check for any type of reaction, I sprinted off towards my car. Tony was sarcastically yelling after me that I was hilarious and that the best decision I had made all night was to run away from them.

I got into my car but I did not leave right away. Instead, I turned and watched Tony and McGee until they were out of sight. A few minutes later, McGee's car was leaving the parking lot, but Tony's car never followed. I took a few more moments to gather my thoughts, but I could not shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong. I couldn't even explain it to myself. I just felt like something was going to happen and that it was not going to be pretty.

A sudden knock on my window, quite frankly, scared the crap out of me. I turned to see it was Tony. I opened the door and said, "What, Tony?"

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean what's wrong? What's wrong what?"

"You haven't left yet."

"And?"

"Are you having car trouble or something?" _Better yet, are you spying on me?_ I thought briefly.

"No."

"Then what's the problem? Everything alright?"

"Yes. I was just thinking. I'll be leaving now."

He nodded. We locked eyes with each other for a few seconds, but I broke it off as I jammed my keys into the ignition, prompting the engine to life. He stayed behind as though he was trying to figure me out or something. My mind plagued me with thoughts, but something held me back.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I have something to tell you."

"You okay?" He had looked concerned.

"I found this camera about a week ago. It is really weird and it shows me pictures of things that are going to happen. I knew Gibbs's dad was going to have pneumonia, and I see pictures of our next victims at crime scenes."

He had raised an eyebrow and looked at me strangely. "Ziva, you feeling alright?"

No, not exactly. Not _really_.

And that conversation never really happened. My imagination had run wild and had gotten the best of me for a minute. I felt the words at the tip of my tongue, but nothing of that nature came out. I must have disconnected myself, because the next thing I knew, Tony was trying to get my attention by waving his hands in my face.

"Ziva?"

"Yes, sorry. I have to leave now."

"Alright. Be safe." He turned to leave, but I stopped him.

"Oh, Tony?"

"Yeah?" he asked, turning towards me again.

I hesitated for a moment, giving him time enough to raise his eyebrow at me in question. "Do you know when Gibbs is coming back? Did he say? Is his father doing alright?"

"I don't know."

"Anything?"

"Nothing. Gibbs might come back next week, though. But that's just me guessing. Why? Is it really that bad with me in charge? I mean, not to brag or anything, but I did just take you guys out to dinner…"

Typical Tony to bring that up and then say he was not trying to brag or anything.

"I was just curious," I said. "Good night, Tony. See you tomorrow."

"Night, Zee," he answered and left.

My heart was thumping crazily against my chest and I still had to clue what was entirely wrong. I only felt that something was going to wrong, but I did not know what. I didn't even know if I could even trust myself, let alone what seemed like a gut feeling, anymore. When I got home, my mind instantly began a war. I wanted to call Tony and talk to him and vent, but something was telling me not to.

I must have been arguing internally with myself for about five minutes or so until I finally decided to pick up the phone and call. All I had to do was call him and tell him. It was just talking. No big deal. I thought maybe I was blowing this whole thing way out of proportion.

Too bad things did not actually go the way I would have liked.

He answered and I said, "Tony, are you home?"

"Yeah," he said a little hesitantly. "Why? Is everything okay?"

It was my turn to be the hesitant one. I opened my mouth to say something, but held back. A few seconds of silence went by before he spoke again, "Ziva? Are you there?"

"Yes," I said.

"Something wrong? You okay?" he asked.

Again, the words were at the tip of my tongue but I could not say them. It was frustrating. I settled for the alternative.

"Thank you for dinner tonight, Tony."

"That's what you called me for?"

"I wanted to say thank you," I answered defensively.

"You already thanked me," he said.

"So I wanted to say it again. What is so bad about that?"

"Nothing. But I know that's not why you called."

He was right. I knew that. I knew that he knew that I knew he was right. I felt stupid.

"Nothing," I gave up, feeling stupider by the minute. "It is nothing. Never mind. I am sorry I called and bothered you. I will see you tomorrow. Good night."

"Are you sure everything's okay, Ziva? I can talk… if you want."

"Everything is fine," I lied.

He was hesitant. He did not believe me. Truthfully, I did not blame him. "'Night, Ziva."

I said good-night to him back and hung up. I sighed and buried my face in my hands. It was something so simple, and I could not get it out of my system. Why was this so hard to just say? I went to take a shower and soon after that, I headed to bed, with a yellow square piece of plastic in my hands. I got in bed and tucked myself under the covers, unsure of how I would ever fall asleep that night.

I turned on the camera, as it was a habit I had made, and was shocked at what I saw. My heart felt like it skipped a beat too many and then stopped as I flipped through the pictures. I tried to sit up in my bed, but I suddenly felt extremely tired. My eyelids were growing heavier and heavier by the second. Even I could not explain that sudden exhaustion that took over me. The more I attempted to sit up, the heavier every limb in my body felt. It felt like someone or something was pulling me down, completely hindering me from moving further. I felt the camera slowly slip from my grip, and there was only one last thing I remembered thinking before passing out completely – something I had seen that I wished I had not.

Abby.


	7. McHero, Part I

Hey, everyone, I'm sorry to leave you all with the evil cliffhanger last chapter. I should have warned you guys, but that particular detail kind of slipped my mind. We'll find out what happened to Abby in this chapter, and the reason for her acting a little strange will be in the next chapter, which picks up immediately after this one.

• Warning for future references • : If no one could already tell, this story is going to be, basically, a roller coaster. It'll have moments you're going to like and moments you're going to hate me for. However, there will be **no major character deaths** in this fic. _Promise._ If you don't think your heart can take all this, then you should probably stop reading right about now. If you're brave enough to stay tuned in for the ride, by all means, continue reading, and don't forget to review. (:

…..

:: Chapter 7 – McHero, Part I ::

My mind was fuzzy when I woke up the following morning. I could not recall much of what had happened the night before. I remembered going to dinner with Tony, McGee, and Abby, and then I came home… but that was it. I awoke before the alarm did, so I unplugged my phone and took it with me as I headed straight for the shower. I took a quick, ten-minute shower, and the moment I stepped out, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and was surprised to see that Tony was calling at this time in the morning. If he was, it could only mean bad news.

"What?" I answered briskly, still too tired to want to talk to him.

"Ziva, we've got a problem," he said hurriedly, and I could then feel myself become more alert and awake.

"What?" I asked.

"It's Abby."

Abby. I began to recall the night before as the memories hit me like a stack of bricks. I had seen pictures of her in the camera. She had been in the hospital, but I did not know why or what was going to happen to her. I was feeling way too many things at the same time. My heart was racing, but I felt numb and a little sick. My brain was indecisive. For a moment, I lost the ability to speak, but quickly composed myself.

"What?" I said for the third time. "What happened to Abby? Is she okay?"

"She's in the hospital," Tony explained. "I'm leaving NCIS right now and I'm coming to pick you up so we can both go. She's at Bethesda."

"Tony, what happened to her?" I asked roughly, wanting a damn explanation.

"McGee… McGee found her in her lab, unconscious about twenty minutes ago. Said she had a huge bump on her forehead, so it looked like she hit her head against something. He looked her over and there were no obvious signs of a struggle or anything, so he's got no clue how she even got that bump." On the other end, I could hear the slamming of a car door and the roaring of an engine. He had begun to sound breathless, so I knew he had been running and talking to me at the same time. "Didn't even wait for the damn paramedics to get there; he took her to the hospital himself."

Instantly, guilt was gradually taking over me. I had seen most of it, but why had I not done anything? I could have stopped it, or at least warned her – or anyone – about it.

"How is she now?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I just got off the phone with him, like two minutes ago, and now I'm talking to you. Guess we'll find out at the hospital when we get there."

I sighed audibly, clearly distressed. I knew Tony noticed it, but he did not know the reasons why I felt beyond worried.

"Ziva, I'm on my way now. I'll be there in ten minutes, fifteen the most. Be ready."

Needless to say, I rushed to get everything done within ten minutes time. I threw some clothes on, briefly tied my hair back, and gathered some things in a small purse I had. By the time I had finished doing all that, Tony was pulling up outside my house. I did not even have time to apply make-up or anything. I looked horrible, but that was the least of my worries. Quickly, I slipped some shoes on – probably some worn out sandals that I didn't have any time to even glance at – and stormed out of my house. I rapidly locked my front door and ran into Tony's car. He barely gave me any time to close the passenger side door before he sped off.

The ride to the hospital was a quiet one. I did not think I could even get a word out. Tony was driving as fast as he could through the snow. I could not help but think that the man had probably been learning a thing or two from Gibbs.

Gibbs. Oh, God. Who would tell Gibbs? He had to know. If he came back to work and found out that Abby had been in the hospital and no one told him, Tony's, McGee's, and my ass were on the line. I treasured all of my body parts, including my ass – at least from Gibbs, I did.

When we got there, Tony turned off the car, practically ripped his seatbelt off, and ran towards the entrance. I was not very close behind. I took off my seatbelt, grabbed my bag, slammed the door shut (maybe just a little too hard), and ran off. Tony was already inside, waiting for the elevator. I had to race to catch up to him, or else he would have left me behind.

"Abby's in room 324," he said rather breathlessly.

We took the elevator up to the third floor and found McGee waiting outside the room Abby was in. He stood a little straighter when he saw us coming up to him, but did not say anything.

"How's Abby?" Tony asked before I could get a word out.

"She's fine," he sighed. He looked exhausted and it was not even nine in the morning yet.

"And?" I said. Why was it so hard to just tell what happened?

"Tell us what happened, McGee," Tony urged.

"She has a concussion – nothing too big," McGee said. "Doctors say she should be here one more day, two the most, just to keep an eye on her. She should be going home soon. She could probably be awake by now."

"Do you know what happened?" I asked him.

He shook his head, looking distraught. I felt bad for him. "I-I came to work, set my stuff down at my desk, and headed down to her lab…"

"Why?" Tony interrupted.

"To say good morning…"

Is that why he was always there earlier than me? To just say "good morning"? I wondered if anything else, anything more, might have been going on between him and Abby. I pushed that thought aside and focused on what he was trying to explain before DiNozzo interrupted.

"Hmph," Tony said quietly.

"Anyway… I went down to her lab to… say good morning. Her music was playing, so everything seemed normal. But when I went in, there she was on the floor. And I don't mean like sleeping, like, you know, sleeping… She was on her back, head titled to the side, and, when I moved her bangs away, she had a really big bump on her forehead. I-I-I panicked. I tried to see if she would wake up, but she didn't, and I didn't wanna cause any more damage, so I took her over here."

"You didn't call the paramedics?" Tony asked.

McGee looked from him and back at me. "I didn't want to wait for them to come, so I just brought her in. I didn't know what else to do… I was panicking."

"It is alright, McGee," I told him, trying to sound comforting. "We should go see her now." He nodded and the three of us turned and walked into Abby's room. To my not-so-big surprise, she was already awake. Her pigtails were gone and her hair was down, tucked rather messily underneath her head. She looked even more exhausted than McGee did, and that was saying quite a lot. Seeing her like that, I couldn't help but think that I let this happen and that it was all my fault.

"Hey, guys," Abby said wearily. "Nice of you to join me."

"Hey, Abbs," Tony said. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," she said. "My head hurts, though. But other than that, I'm fine. Why aren't you guys at work?"

"Because we're here," Tony said dryly. But at least it made her smile.

McGee went straight to asking her questions. "Abby, do you know who did this to you?"

"I'd be able to help you out if you actually _told_ me what happened," she said.

McGee glanced at us uncertainly. Tony looked back at him, clearly not comfortable with the idea of having to explain to her the situation. McGee merely looked like he was not sure how to even begin explaining. They glanced at me, their eyes asking if I wanted to do the honors. Poor Abby was more than just confused. So I stepped up. She had to know, anyway.

"Uhh, Abby…" I began awkwardly, stepping up to her bed as she looked at me, waiting for an answer. "McGee found you in your lab today, unconscious… and you have a bump on your forehead, so we think you may have been hit in the face with something. Do you remember anything at all? Did someone come into your lab and attack you or something?"

She looked away, trying to remember the situation. I could tell it drained her energy to do so, but she recalled a little bit. "I remember I went to my lab this morning like I always do… I put my music on, went to work on something, and that's it. That's all I remember."

"You do not remember anyone coming into your lab or anything?"

"No."

"You did not _hear_ anyone coming into your lab?"

"No," she said again.

I picked up her hands and she only stared at me as I did so. Her fingernails were clean, and as I looked her over, I noticed that, like McGee had said, there were no obvious signs of struggle. I did not know how she got that bump, unless she did it herself. It was not like Abby to want to hurt herself like that, but it was not impossible either.

"What?" she asked me after a few moments.

"Abby, you have a concussion."

"Yeah," McGee finally decided to step in. "Nothing too serious, so you'll probably be here a day or two more just to be safe. But you're fine."

"Oh," she said. "Well, I'm probably going to just try and rest, so you should go back to work."

"Someone should stay with her," Tony said.

"Someone has to tell Gibbs," McGee added.

"And Director Vance," I put in.

Abby began to speak, "You guys don't have to stay with me. I'm fine–"

But McGee interrupted her. "Tony, you call them," he said.

"Why me?"

"Because you're the senior field agent."

"And Gibbs put _me_ in charge, so that's exactly why I can tell you two who's going to call who."

McGee rolled his eyes, and I was honestly surprised that _he_ was surprised Tony was going to say something like that. Tony had the tendency to use the fact that he was the senior field agent to his advantage, so that he would not have to be the one doing the things everyone else dreaded or did not want to do.

"Then I will call Gibbs," I offered.

McGee sighed. "Guess I'll call Vance then," he murmured.

"You guys can go back to work," Abby said. "I'll be fine here by myself. You can see me after work. Just as long as one of you brings me a Caf-Pow. Seriously. I'm really craving one right now."

I wanted her to just shut up. Part of me scolded myself for thinking something like that. She was fine and not seriously harmed, and we all would have hated to not be able to hear her voice ever again if she had died, but the more she talked, the guiltier I felt. My conscience continued to taunt me and tell me that I caused this and that the only reason she was here was because of my sheer carelessness. How could I have fallen asleep when my friend's life was in potential danger? "I can stay with her," I said. "And you guys go back to work. McGee, you can tell Vance when you get to headquarters."

"Why should _you_ stay?" Tony asked.

"Because…"

"Because…?"

"Because I want her to stay," Abby filled in for me. "Maybe now we can have the girl talk we're never able to have."

"What kind of girl talk?" Nosy.

"Like what brand of tampons she recommends for me to use."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "Eww. Fine, Ziva, you stay."

McGee was the first one to leave, saying good-bye to Abby and that he would see her during his lunch break (to which she protested that he should not waste his time doing that during his lunch break, to which he replied that, honestly, Abby, it was no problem at all) and again after he left work in the afternoon. After he left, Tony approached her bed and I stepped behind him.

"You gonna be okay, Abbs?" he asked her.

"Sure, Tony. I'll have Ziva to keep me company." I could see her force a big smile through her exhaustion.

"Yeah, that's why I asked," he joked. I remained silent.

"Just make sure you tell Vance why she's not at work," she said. "I don't want her to get in trouble because of me."

"No one's going to get in trouble, Abby." Tony glanced at his watch on his wrist. "Anyway, I should get going now. I may join McHero here at lunch. If we don't have a case, that is." He bent down and kissed the side of her head, in a similar Gibbs-style affection kiss. My stomach did an uneasy flip-flop.

_Oh, for the love of God, Ziva. The whole world does not revolve around you and you only. Besides, they are like brother and sister. _

"You don't have to, Tony," Abby said. "Unless you're going to bring me a Caf-Pow. I really, really want one. Oh, and do me another favor while you're at it." She motioned for him to get closer to her, and she whispered something to him in his ear that I did not catch. I hadn't even the slightest clue about what she could have said. It was anyone's guess, really. He nodded at her and turned to leave.

Our gazes met, but he had a different look in his eyes that told me he was not yet finished with me. Abby looked ahead at us, wondering what was going to happen next, but I felt that she somehow knew what was going to happen. It must have been whatever they were just whispering about.

"Miss David, could I have a word with you for a moment?" Tony said seriously.

I glanced back at Abby, whose face was stoic, but whose eyes seemed to be telling me to follow him. I gave him a slight nod and walked out of the room. "What, Tony?" I asked once we were out of her earshot completely.

"Abby's worried about you," he said.

"Abby is worried? About me?" I laughed incredulously. "Why? I am not the one in a hospital bed with a concussion!"

"She said you have a strange look on your face," he went on. "And I don't blame her. She's not the only one who's noticed."

I did not know what to say in response to that.

"And I'm sure Abby and I aren't the only ones who've noticed that you've been acting a little – okay, kind of a _lot_ – weird lately. Right now, I don't have to go back to headquarters right away. I can stay here for a little while longer…"

"I will stay with Abby, Tony," I said. "You can go."

"I wasn't talking about Abby, Ziva. I know you're staying with her. I was talking about you. I can stay here a little bit longer and talk…"

For once, I found myself not thinking before I spoke. My mouth was suddenly way ahead of my rational thinking. I did not – I _could not_ – stop until I was done. "It is my fault."

"Excuse me?"

"It is my fault, Tony," I said. "This whole thing – Abby being in the hospital. It is my fault. I could have stopped it, I _should have_ stopped it. I fell asleep, I don't know why. I could not help it; I was just so tired. I should not have fallen asleep. I should have called her and warned her, or I should have at least just called you or McGee or someone."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

We stopped walking and faced each other. I felt the words casually slip from my mouth. "I have something to tell you."

"Okay."

I stepped closer to him, though I was not sure why I did; at this point, I could start to feel his body heat. "Remember when we were talking in the bathroom and you asked me what was on my mind and I said I could not tell you because I was not ready?"

"Yeah?"

"I am ready now."

Tony looked at me seriously again. "Okay. Tell me."

Just as I did not know why I was suddenly just blurting this all out, I did not know why I started to chicken out either. There must have been some panic in my eyes, because when I suddenly said, "I have to go to the bathroom," Tony all but believed me, and grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"No, you don't," he said rather sternly.

"Yes, I do," I countered. When I thought about it, _really hard_, I did kind of have to go. I began to make my way towards the bathroom, only to find Tony was still right behind him. "Why are you following me?"

"Because I can." Unfortunately, the bathroom was a single bathroom, and since Tony was not going to leave me alone, I had no other choice than to lock myself in there with him. Not that I was complaining.

"You are going to watch me pee?" I asked rhetorically.

"Yep," he answered shortly.

"Is that your idea of fun?"

"What's the big deal? Nothing I haven't seen before anyway."

I glared at him, but he had a point. I pulled my pants down and sat down on the toilet, setting my purse on my bare thighs. I felt uncomfortable as Tony folded his arms and leaned against the door, just waiting for me to pee. Nothing was coming out and I did not think that anything would if he continued to stare at me. I sighed.

"Does it normally take this long for you to pee?"

I rolled my eyes and got up. I pulled my pants back up, noticing the amused look on his face. "I am glad you enjoyed that, Tony."

He winked at me – which was sexy on its own – but then became serious. "You wanted to talk?"

I looked down. Why, after blurting out everything, could I not even begin to explain myself? I stepped up to him, keeping a short distance between us, but he moved up a few steps towards me. He put his hand on the side of my neck. "I'm all ears, Ziva," he said gently.

I hesitated a little, but found the courage within to just say it. "Abby… Abby is here – in the hospital – because of me. I let this happen to her when I could have prevented it. It is all my fault."

"Ziva, I'm not following you."

I sighed. "I mean I saw what was going to happen before it happened. I knew Abby was going to be in the hospital before it happened. I did nothing about it."

"How could you possibly have known?"

"I found this camera," I began, "about a week ago. A yellow, Nikon camera. I was coming home after wrapping up a case and I found this camera on my counter. I thought it was a joke, perhaps, and more so when I turned it on and found pictures of you guys on it."

"What kind of pictures?" Tony asked quietly.

"Pictures of Gibbs and McGee and Abby," I said, "doing normal, everyday things. So when I got to work the next day, everything I had already seen on the camera was happening." There was absolutely no sound, let alone movement, from him, except for a blink of the eyes. I went on. "I brushed it off. I continued to think it was a joke, or that you were playing a joke on me or something… but it continued to happen. I saw our next case victims in the camera. I saw… Gibbs's father in the hospital, and then I saw Abby. Last night."

There was still no answer from him, so I continued. Eventually, he would say something. "But I do not know what happened. As I was looking through the pictures of Abby, I suddenly felt very tired. It was like I could not stay awake a minute longer. I was so tired and I just felt asleep. When I woke up this morning, I could not remember much about what happened last night, until you called me."

There were a few more seconds of silence. I felt a little bit better, but not entirely.

"That's funny," he said humorlessly. "I thought Abby was the one who hit her head. Not you."

"There is nothing funny about this, Tony," I shot back. "I will show you." I reached into my purse, pulled out the camera, and turned it in on. He was curiously waiting to see what I was about to show him, but of course, the pictures were gone when I turned the camera on. The camera was empty and had no images. At this point, I was close to ripping the hair off my scalp. I could feel Tony staring at me doubtfully.

"What the hell?" I shrieked in vain. "The pictures were here last night! I swear!"

"Okay, okay," Tony said, trying to calm me down as he put his hands on my shoulders to keep my steady. "Chillax, ninja girl."

"Tony, I swear on my _life!_ I saw those pictures last night! And now they're gone; I don't know how! I never deleted them!"

"Okay, Ziva," he said, but I could not tell if he believed me or not. "Fine."

"You do not believe me," I stated plainly. "You think I am crazy; you think I am making this up!"

He shook his head and, sighing, said, "I believe you, Zee."

I was stunned for a few moments. "You do?"

"Come on. I know you. I know when you're lying and when you're telling the truth. You know better than to make up stories and lie about them. I believe you. You've been acting strange for a while now and this certainly… makes sense. In a weird kind of way. I want to see it for myself, though."

"Do not tell anyone," I said.

"You don't think we should at least tell Abby or McGee? Or Gibbs?"

"No," I snapped. "I do not want anyone to know about this. Do not tell anyone, Tony. Please." Even I sounded foreign to myself, and so desperate, as though I had been begging. How pathetic of me.

He nodded sincerely at me. "Fine," he said. "I promise I won't tell anyone. Under one condition, though."

Why was I not surprised? "Name it."

"Any weird, fishy, life-threatening crap comes up and I want you to tell me. No matter what's happening, or what I'm doing. You tell me," he said. "Got it?"

I nodded. "Got it," I said, trying to keep my voice flat. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He stiffened for a moment in surprise, but then relaxed and hugged me back. I knew we both had to leave now, but I embraced the moment, taking in his wonderful scent and pleasant body warmth, and rested my head against his broad chest. I had to get back to Abby and he had to get back to work. But, God, I could not help but think that our best moments _always_ seemed to happen in the bathroom.


	8. McHero, Part II

Thanks to everyone who reviewed in the last chapter! Your reviews really motivate me to continue, and I hope you're all ready for the ride ;) Remember the 9x04 episode, "Enemy on the Hill" where Abby found out she was adopted? Well, I'm going to be shedding some light on that and doing my own take on her biological family, which we'll see more about in later chapters. I think you're all going to hate me some at the end, even though I added some Tiva for the soul :))) No worries, though, Abby's adoption will bring about more Tiva! So enjoy and review!

…..

:: Chapter 8 – McHero, Part II ::

"Just so you know," was the first thing Abby said when I stepped back into her room, "we're not really going to talk about tampons."

I smiled at her attempt at humor, despite everything that I suspected must have been going around in her mind. "I thought so," I said as I took a seat in the chair beside her bed and pushed it closer to her.

"You okay, Ziva?" she asked me.

"Why are you asking me that?"

She sighed. "Tony didn't talk to you?"

"Yes, Tony and I talked," I said. "I am just wondering why you are worried about me, Abby. There is nothing to be worried about."

She nodded slowly. "You mean it's completely ridiculous that everyone's worried about you? That it's obvious you haven't been sleeping a lot or that you've been acting a little strange? We shouldn't be worried about you when you're acting like that?"

"I have a lot on my mind," I said.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not really," I admitted. I had said enough already.

"Well, I do."

I looked at her, surprised. "Abby, I just said that I do not want to talk about–"

She interrupted me. "Not that, Ziva. I mean me. I have something I want to talk about."

I was glad we were finally able to get off my own case. I was hesitant for a moment because I did not know what she was going to say to me. Could she possibly have known about the camera? Or maybe I was getting really paranoid or something. Yeah, that could have been it. It _had to_ have been it. I looked at her for a few moments. "Is everything okay?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah. I mean, no, but… well, kinda, but it's just…" She stopped herself with a sigh. "I haven't really told anyone about this – well, except for Gibbs – but… I'm adopted."

A silence took over us. Talk about being blunt. "You are…"

"Adopted."

"Adopted?" I repeated. The words just rolled off my tongue so easily, for something that came as quite a shock.

"Yeah, adopted. You know what that means, don't you?"

"Yes, I know, but… you are adopted? When did you find out? How did you find out? Why did I not hear of this sooner?"

"It's complicated," she sighed again. "I found out about two months or so ago." She explained to me about when she was going to go to about donating a kidney and about how another match turned up as another donor. She told me about how she actually got to talk face to face with her biological brother, whose name was Kyle Davis, and how she had not told him right away who she was. "He knows now," she said. "I went back to him later on and we've kept in touch since."

I wanted to ask her why she was telling me this now, but at the same time, I was glad she did, because I did not know about her being adopted. I never would have guessed either.

"Anyway… you know how yesterday I was a little upset and in a bad mood and stuff?" she went on.

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to be all snappy towards you guys, but I just couldn't help it. I talked to Kyle yesterday and we've been thinking about meeting up for lunch soon to talk about stuff. He wants me to meet my biological parents and I want to meet them, too."

"He has met them before?"

"They raised him," she mumbled dejectedly.

I raised an eyebrow. "What? You are both biological siblings but they raised him and not you?" I said. "I do not understand. Why did they give you up and not him? Does he know why?"

She shook her head. "He doesn't know. According to him, our parents never even told him he has an older sister. They live in Florida. They're not really the traveling type, so I might have to go to them. I don't know when, but we're going to talk about that when we meet up. It's been a while since we've met up in person."

I was almost speechless. "Wow, Abby… I had no idea. I am so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," she told me. "You have nothing to be sorry for. _I'm_ sorry – for my bad mood yesterday. It's just… I talked to Kyle and I got kinda pissy after that. Not that I'm mad at him or anything; I just get so angry whenever I think that the parents that raised me aren't my biological parents, and that my real parents gave me up and kept him." She was wearing herself out more than she already was. I noticed how she was fighting against sleep, her eyelids occasionally drooping and shutting closed, before she opened them up again.

I took her hand in mine as she continued to talk. Her words began to run into each other, making her sound slurred, and she was helplessly falling asleep in the middle of her sentences. I thought about telling her to just stop talking and sleep, but if I had, she would have argued. I let her lull herself to sleep, completely tuning out everything she was saying by that point. Her words dragged out slowly, the slur lessening, until she slipped off into a bittersweet slumber. Her breathing evened out and her chest heaved up and down, calmly, rhythmically. I let her hand go and pulled my knees up to chest in the chair, wrapping my arms around my legs.

I was uncomfortable in the stiff chair, but as long as Abby was fine, I could not complain.

* * *

><p>When I woke up again, it was around noon, and Tony and McGee were already in the room. I had no idea when they had gotten there. Abby was already awake, and I internally cowered at the fact that they could have been staring at me for a while now. When I shifted in the hospital chair, I realized my neck and back were in pain from the position I had been sleeping in. I probably would have had better luck sleeping on the floor.<p>

"Well, hello, Sleeping Beauty!" Tony said loudly to me. "How're you enjoying your day off? Having fun, I hope!"

"When did you two get here?" I asked them.

"About two minutes ago," McGee answered. "Tony and I decided to take lunch together and come here."

"You guys, you really didn't have to," Abby told them. "Is that a Caf-Pow I see in your hands, Tony?"

"Yes, it is," Tony said as he handed her the oversized drink cup. She was so eager to put the straw in her mouth that Tony had to help her sit up straight so she wouldn't spill anything in her position.

"You been sleeping this whole time, Sleeping Beauty?" he asked, turning to me.

"Yeah, apparently."

"You called Gibbs? What did he say?"

I mentally smacked myself. I forgot completely about calling Gibbs. "No," I said. "I forgot to call Gibbs. Did you talk to Vance?"

"McGee did."

"And?"

"He said to keep him updated on Abby's status," McGee said. "Said she can take the week off if she's feeling too weak to come to work or something."

"I _bumped_ my head," Abby protested through slurps. "I'm not suffering from dehydration!"

"And thank God you're not," Tony put in. "That would've been worse." He then turned to me to hand me a pair of winter boots, which I quickly recognized as mine. Before I could even begin to voice out loud the fact that I was wondering why the hell he had my winter boots in his hands (they would not fit him anyway), he interrupted me, already knowing what I was about to ask. "Before you ask why I have your boots, I got them for you," he explained. "And, yes, I went into your house and got them. I know where you keep your spare key. I noticed you came in your sandals when I picked you up this morning, and I thought your feet might get cold. So, here." He handed them to me.

"Oh." I was surprised, to say the very least. That was the last thing on my mind: cold feet. But I had to admit that it was sweet. Besides him being inconsiderate more than half of the times, I really had to appreciate the fact that Tony had an eye for the small details. We all had to, in a way, have an eye for the small things, or else we would never get our investigation work done, but with Tony it was different. I didn't know how to explain it; I just knew the small things really did matter. "Thank you," I finished. "That was very thoughtful of you, Tony."

Abby was grinning like crazy. McGee was trying to hide a smirk of his own. I removed my sandals and took the boots and slipped them on. The warmth felt heavenly.

"I should go call Gibbs now…" I said awkwardly when I felt that Abby and Tony were glaring at me nonstop. I stepped outside and pulled my phone out. I was not exactly too excited about having to make that call. I dialed Gibbs's number and he answered in the typical way he always answered everyone.

"Yeah. Gibbs."

"Gibbs, I have some news for you," I cut straight to the point. Well, almost.

"Yeah, what's up, Ziva?"

"Uhh… it is about Abby. She's in the hospital right now, but I thought I would let you know that she's fi–"

"What happened?" he cut me off instantly.

"Before you freak out, Gibbs, she is alright; she's probably going to say maybe one more day just to be safe…"

"_What happened?_" he repeatedly gruffly, and I could tell he had already been in a bad mood. I also knew better than to keep putting off telling him what happened to Abby.

"She has a concussion," I said. "Nothing too serious, hence her possibly staying one more day or so."

"How?"

"We do not know. We think that she may have had hit her head against something–"

"_You don't know?_" he barked and I had to pull the phone away from my ear. A few nurses walking by glanced at me, but they were probably surprised at how loud Gibbs was yelling. "How the hell does Abby get a damn concussion and you don't know how she got it? Don't tell me what you _think_ may have happened; I want to know _exactly_ how she got that concussion! Do Tony and McGee know?"

"No," I said, preparing myself for even more yelling.

Surprisingly, he did not continue to yell, and instead he said, "Are they around?"

"Yes."

"Get them. I want to speak to the three of you."

_Shit,_ I thought. I sighed to myself before going back into the room. Tony and Abby were laughing at McGee about something. I could tell by the irritated look on his face.

"Gibbs wants to talk to us," I announced to them. "He's pissed," I added quietly. I stepped up to them and we all stood by Abby's bed after telling her to be quiet and not say anything to Gibbs, no matter how much she missed him. I put the speakerphone on and said, "We are here, Gibbs."

And, of course, he resumed his barking. "How the hell is it that Abby just so happens to get a concussion and absolutely none of you know how it happened? None of you can tell me what happened! You could only tell me what you _think_ happened, and that's not good enough!" He continued to go on and on about how, in other words, he was extremely angry at us and pissed off, and what if something had happened to Abby, and so on. Tony got so bored that he took out his phone and started to play a game on it. I watched him play Midnight Pool, tuning out half of what Gibbs was saying.

"DiNozzo!" shouted Gibbs suddenly. "You better stop playing games on your phone when I'm talking to you!" And he was not kidding.

Tony froze for a moment before exchanging glances with the three of us and exiting out of the game completely. He shoved the phone back into his pocket. "Sorry, boss," he said.

Gibbs continued to yell at us before ending with, "If I hear that any of you are in the hospital again and no one knows how, I'm going to kick your asses so hard, the next fifteen generations after you will be born with bruises on their asses!" It did not stop there, though. He sweetly asked Abby how she was doing, and for a moment, I felt like Tony, McGee, and I were siblings who had just gotten into a lot of trouble with our father for not looking out for our little sister. Of course, our little sister was not in any trouble, because she was Daddy's favorite, and simply because, she never really did get into any trouble anyway.

"I'm fine, Gibbs," the little angel answered, taking another sip of her Caf-Pow. "Honest."

"Good to hear, Abbs," he said. "I'm going to get you your own Caf-Pow vending machine in your lab. DiNozzo, McGee, David, get back to work." He ended the call.

All of us remained in silence for a few moments after Gibbs hung up.

And then –

"You guys don't think he was kidding about the Caf-Pow vending machine thing, right?"

* * *

><p>It was seven-thirty, and Tony was leaving work and was on his way to the hospital with a few things for Abby, which included her cell phone, the bag she brought in with her in the morning, and last but never least (not to her anyway), her stuffed animal, Bert. She was also declining my offer to stay with her overnight. I thought she should have someone stay with her while she was recovering, but she insisted she was fine and that she would be okay by herself throughout the night.<p>

I gave up. There was no sense in arguing with her. If she did not want anyone to keep her company throughout the night, I should have respected that. But the fact of the matter was that I still felt guilty and felt that I should have stayed with her. She did not know that, obviously, so she insisted that she be alone. But there was no getting through to her. Her mind was made up.

Tony finally arrived and dropped her things off. He had another Caf-Pow with him because he knew she was dying for another one. He also brought up the fact that he thought someone should have stayed with Abby overnight, but I did not want to start a whole new argument, so I just convinced him to let it go.

"I'll be fine, you guys," Abby insisted. "I won't die, I promise. And if I do, then you have my full permission to bring me back to life and kill me yourselves." She laughed dryly at her joke. "Get it?" she said as she held on to Bert with one arm, giving him a squeeze, and gripped her Caf-Pow in the other hand, the straw in her mouth.

"Yeah," we said unconvincingly. It had no effect on her, either way.

"Well, I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Tony, you better have another Caf-Pow for me in the morning!"

"Sure thing, Abbs," he said. We said our good-byes, telling her to call us if anything. Tony turned to me and asked me if I was ready to go. By then, I had almost forgotten that he was going to be my ride home. I had even lost track of how many hours I had spent in the hospital. I would have preferred to be at a crime scene, honestly, but then again, I had _let all this happen_, and so the least I could have done was keep Abby company all day.

It was snowing lightly when Tony and I exited the hospital and got into his car. I thought I would never get out of that hospital.

"So how was your girl day with Abby?" Tony asked as he shoved the keys in the ignition, prompting the engine to life.

"It was alright," I said. "Abby is doing just fine. My guess is that she will be released tomorrow. I am sure of it. Have you heard from Gibbs?"

"No. Why? Have you?"

"No. He has not called since around noon. I figured he might call the office and … yell at us some more."

"I think he's saving the best for when he gets back. Or should I say the worst. I think we're screwed when he comes back." He pulled out of the hospital parking lot and drove off. "He's probably going to yell at us some more."

"He probably is. But it could have been worse if we had not told him. I know you, McGee, and I can keep a secret, but Abby wouldn't. And Ducky and Palmer might notice that she had a concussion. It was a lose-lose situation anyway."

"Can't wait till he gets back," Tony muttered sarcastically. "So, uhh… any weird… _occurrences_ lately?"

"No," I replied. "I said I would let you know."

"Just asking, Zee."

The rest of the car ride to my house was silent and when we got there, about fifteen minutes later, I decided I could not just say good-bye to him and leave it at that. I invited him to come inside my house for a few minutes. He agreed. We went inside quickly, not wanting to be out in the cold for too long.

Once inside, I offered him something to drink and he said he would like some hot cocoa. I was going to do it myself quickly, but when I started to ask him to hand me the ingredients, we began to make it together; he made his own and I made my own, too. It was something simple, yet it felt nice to do it together, side by side.

"So, listen, Tony…" I began in the midst of our cocoa-making, "I wanted to say thanks again for earlier today. I was not sure if I should have told anyone about the camera, but I realized I could not keep it all in. So thanks for believing me." When no answer came, I looked at him skeptically. "You _do_ believe me, right?"

He nodded. "I believe you, Ziva," he said. "I told you, I know when you're lying and when you're not. If you had actually made up any of the things you said, I probably would have been angry. And I'm not."

"And you believe me."

"Yes. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

I didn't answer him. Once we were finished with our hot cocoa, we made our way over to my couch and sat down. We were silent as we drank our drinks until I said, "We should have a movie night again soon."

Tony moved the mug away from his mouth and grinned. "Really?" He seemed surprised.

"Yes."

"You mean you actually enjoy the movie nights we have?"

"Is there a reason I should not?"

"No," he said. "I'm just surprised that you would bring it up. Why _would_ you bring it up?"

"Can't I watch a movie with a friend?"

The grin never left his face. "You consider me a friend, Miss David? That's sweet." I was quiet, but he went on anyway. "What movie do you have in mind? You can pick since you brought it up."

"Do you like musicals?" I asked.

He hesitated. "Please don't pick _The Sound of Music,_ Ziva, please. If I have to hear the Von Trapp children singing about their favorite things again, I swear I'm gonna–"

"No, not that one," I interrupted. "I was thinking something more like _Aladdin_, or _Beauty and the Beast_, or _The Phantom of the Opera_."

"What's with you and romances?"

"Some are good."

"Yeah… some. Well, you pick. I told you you'd get to pick."

"I like _Beauty and the Beast,_" I said. "You do not?"

"It's alright. Not my choice, though. I would have said something like _Psycho _or _Top Gun _or something like that."

"_Beauty and the Beast _is good," I said. "I always love to sing along."

"It's fine with me if you can carry a tune decently."

"I can."

"I hope. So, when?"

"Maybe next week, Friday?" I suggested.

He shrugged. "Sounds good. My house?"

"Sure." I set my cup down on my coffee table, no longer feeling like drinking it anymore. Tony watched me curiously and did the same thing.

"What?" he asked, still eyeing me.

"Nothing, I…" I had to do something to stop myself from smiling like an idiot. Nothing came to mind. "I just really love that movie. I think the romance is sweet. I cannot help but cry at the end of the movie every time I see it." I inched closer to him, his body language nonchalantly welcoming me. "I used to wish I had a romance like Belle and the Beast."

"You really wanted a guy that looked like a beast?" Tony asked lowly.

"Well, no," I admitted. "But I often wished I could have what they had." I not-so-absent-mindedly took his hand in mine and played with his fingers. "It was some of the things I used to think of in my spare time when I was younger. It is not that I wanted to find love in the same circumstances as Belle, but what she got out of it in the end was what I envied most about her…."

Why was I still talking? How was I even still talking? My mouth must have acquired a mind of its own because the moment Tony started running his fingers through my hair, playing with it with his fingers, I had no clue how I was still able to concentrate. We were dangerously close at that point. I nuzzled my head into his neck, still feeling him gently weave his fingers skillfully in my hair. His skin was comfortably warm and the contact was nice. I thought I had stopped talking around that time, though I could not be sure, because the next thing I knew, I was pressing my lips against his. There were no boundaries. He kissed me back.

I slipped my arms around his shoulders, my hand instinctively running up through his hair. He reacted by placing his hands on my hips and pulling me closer. I was trying hard to tell myself to stop this craziness, but my heart was momentarily dominating me. Every body part of mine seemed to be acting on its own – most notably, my tongue, when it begged entrance into Tony's mouth and he allowed it.

A shudder ran down my spine when his tongue thrust into my mouth, and I, of course, let it. Something was telling me to pull away, but it only made me want to continue hanging on, even if by a thread. I could taste the cocoa in his lips and in his mouth, but I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I did not like the taste of it from his end.

Tony's hands went up to hold my neck and I tried to steady myself by holding on to his, but his arms blocked me. I gripped his arms instead, digging my nails into his coat. Every second we spent felt as though electric sparks were shooting through my veins. My heart was beating erratically, my pulse was out of control, the adrenaline was pumping crazily through my body, and the need and want and desire to go further was slowly building up. I had only ever kissed Tony when we were undercover one time, but this one was beginning to rival it. I had never felt a rush of emotions go through me so fiercely – not with other men and not even that time Tony and I were both undercover.

But I was stupid and I was scared among other things, and I slowly pushed him away. His face displayed some disappointment and it did all the asking. I looked at him regretfully and I knew that he had to have seen it. "You should go now, Tony," I said. "We have to be at work early tomorrow."

The hurt and the disappointment were evident on his face. I wanted to say I was sorry, but nothing came out. We exchanged good-byes and he left. I let my irrational and insecure side take control of me and I felt terrible. Pissed at myself, I took the two mugs on my coffee table, went into the kitchen, and flung them into the sink. I had thrown it with so much force that both mugs cracked and broke into a few large pieces. Several things around the sink were stained with the chocolaty liquid that jumped up and spilled from the impact. It stayed like that till morning.


	9. Agents

Again, many thanks to everyone who has reviewed and stuck around this long. I appreciate every single review! In this chapter we're going to meet a new character that I'm pretty sure you're all going to hate. Nevertheless, I promise there will be Tiva a little later on, so don't fret too much(; Also, keep in mind that this fic still takes place in mid-December, even though I'm not going to get in depth about all the Christmas stuff at all, since they holidays are over and such. As usual, enjoy, and review.

…..

:: Chapter 9 – Agents ::

"McGee! That is not funny! That is just CRUEL!"

I heard Tony's voice from his desk as I stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen. Hearing his voice and obvious disposition towards McGee gave me some hope that perhaps he willing to push past last night and forget about it. I did not blame him if he did not want to, but it certainly would have made me feel less terrible, despite the fact that I already felt terrible, even before last night's incidents.

McGee's laughter followed Tony's protests. "Why not, Tony?" he said tauntingly. "It's totally appropriate – and I mean that in every sense of the word."

I walked over to my desk and set my bag down, muttering a small, but still audible, "Good morning," to both of them. They returned it; McGee sounded enthused and Tony sounded very casual and, if I was not mistaken, there was a hint of displeasure as well. In my lethargic mood, I had caught it. I had not noticed, until McGee mentioned it later on, that it was around ten in the morning when I arrived there. That was late for me. I was normally here way before that. But that morning had been cold and rough. I did not wish to wake up from my restless sleep. I never did anymore.

This morning, however, something caught my eye – and it was more than one thing. There was a picture frame on my desk, as well as on McGee's, Tony's, and Gibbs's desk, and in it was a picture of Tony in his previous, hideous clown suit. To make matters worse, McGee, in the midst of his taunting, stood up and announced, "Now, if you'll all let me, I'd like to read you all a little poem. It's titled 'Cloony the Clown' by Shel Silverstein."

Tony's mouth dropped open. "McGee!" his voice rang out, but had no effect.

McGee began: "_I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown, who worked in a circus that came through town; his shoes were too big and his hat was too small, but he just wasn't, just wasn't funny at all…_" He continued to read the rest of the poem, but I tuned out. I really was not in the mood to listen to a stupid poem. Any other day, maybe I would not have minded, but that day was just not my day. My mind continued to wander off to last night, and eventually I thought of Abby. Was she awake? Was she feeling well? Was she even still in the hospital?

"Has anyone heard from Abby?" I asked when I heard McGee finish his poem. Tony was red in the face, but I did not know if it was from embarrassment or anger.

"Yes," McGee said, smiling. "She called earlier this morning. She's fine and ready to be discharged today. So we're going to go get her at around noon."

"What time is it anyway?" I asked.

"It's around ten-thirty," he said. "You okay, Ziva?"

"Just fine, McGee," I responded, but I knew they had noticed my sluggish mood. I turned to my computer and busied myself. Tony said nothing else, and I did not honestly think that he even _could_. From the corner of my eye, I could see McGee walk over to Gibbs's desk, pick something up, and then stop in front of my desk. He gaped at me until I stopped what I was doing and shifted my gaze towards him.

"I had this custom made," he explained. He held out in his hand a medium-sized calendar for the new upcoming 2012 year. Every month had a picture of Tony in his clown suit – pictures that McGee had so gladly taken at our crime scene. I stared, smiling half-heartedly, not really sure if that was the right moment to laugh in Tony's face or not.

"Why don't you just show the whole damn world, McNo-Life?" Tony snapped in bitter playfulness.

McGee grinned at him. "Aww, don't worry, Tony," he laughed. "This doesn't even come halfway close to all the things you've done to me. Karma's a bitch, right, DiNozzo?"

Tony remained quiet. I felt terrible because I knew that I had contributed to how lousy he must have been feeling.

"You don't like it, Ziva?"

"No, McGee, I do. I think it is… hilarious," I said.

He smiled. "I think Abby will love it, too. I made several actually. This one's for you." He set the calendar on my desk. "I already gave one to Ducky and Palmer, one for myself – which is the biggest one, not gonna life. Oh, and of course, I made one for Tony, I have one for Abby, and even for Gibbs."

I raised an eyebrow. "So you had seven custom-made calendars made for us?"

"Yep."

"And it was not expensive?"

"Let's just say I know a guy. And whenever I have embarrassing pictures of Tony, I can simply go to this guy and have something custom-made with his picture on it. In fact, there's the possibility that one day I'll blackmail you, Tony. As of this moment, I love life. Really, I do."

"And I hate it, McEvil. So shut up," Tony snapped.

McGee simply laughed and went back to his desk. No sooner after he sat at his desk chair did an unfamiliar face approach our section of the squad room.

"Excuse me, can someone tell me where the ladies' room is?"

A thin woman around my height stood there, waiting for an answer. She had shoulder-length, black, curly hair and olive-tan skin. Her eyes were brown and dull, and her lips were graced with a soft shade of pink lipstick. She wore a light blue, long-sleeved flannel shirt with gray dress pants that did not exactly completely complement her shirt. She had a light gray pair of suede pumps and it was obvious she was wearing at least two pairs of pantyhose. She was wearing a thick, wine red burgundy coat, and an oversized pair of red shades was tucked into her hair.

Tony, seemingly forgetting about his lousy mood, stood up from his desk chair too quickly and extended his hand to shake hers. She took it. "Well, hello there," he said with a cheeky grin. "I am _Very_ Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, but you can just call me Tony. What can I help you with?"

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said, and I detected a hint of a Latin American accent in her voice, but I could not place her accent just yet. "But I guess it could wait." She smiled at Tony. I raised my eyebrows to myself and stole a glance at McGee, who was curiously looking on at what was unfolding before us.

"I am Special Agent Carla Emilia," she went on. "I'm working with another team right now… but my desk is right next to your section."

Tony smiled at her. If he was trying to disguise any attempts at flirting, he was failing miserably at it. I could not help the churning feeling my stomach was making, or the anger that was slowly building up inside me.

"Hey, Tony," McGee called from his desk, "why don't you introduce us to your new friend?"

"Oh. Uhh, right. Well, Special Agent Emilia…"

"You can call me Carla," she interrupted, smiling at him flirtatiously.

He never stopped smiling at her.

"Well, _Carla…_" he began, and they both shared small giggles that tested my patience, "that's Special Agent Timothy McGee, but we just call him McGee, or… whatever you want, really. And that–" he briefly nodded his towards me, "is Ziva."

"_Special Agent_ Ziva David," I butted in heatedly. "But you can just call me Agent David." I was not exactly fond of the loose way Tony had just used my name.

"Where are you from, Agent David?" she asked me, but it sounded to me as though she was practically spitting the words out of her mouth in disgust.

"Israel," I said shortly.

"Where in Israel?"

"Be'er Sheva."

"Oh. That's … cool, I guess. Well, nice to meet you all," she said to us, but she gave me a hard glare as if to show that she already disliked me. I only glared back at her. She could have stared all she wanted, but I was not afraid of her.

"Where are you from, Agent Emilia?" McGee asked curiously.

"Oh, I'm from Puerto Rico," she replied politely.

"Puerto Rico, huh?" Tony asked excitedly. "God, I love Puerto Rico. I mean, _love_. I've only been there once, but I'd love to go again."

"How exciting," she grinned. I rolled my eyes. Didn't she have to go to the bathroom or something?

"Which part?" McGee wanted to know.

"San Juan."

"So you've been to Old San Juan?" Tony asked her.

"Yes," she replied. "I don't know of anyone who lives there and hasn't been there. It would be a sin. Speaking of sin, you know what else is a sin?"

The question baffled all of us a little. "What?" Tony asked uncertainly.

"Those pants you're wearing," she answered. Tony only raised an eyebrow at her, and I continued to look at her, wondering what she was going to say next. "Are they space pants? Because, seriously, your ass is out of this world!"

I wanted to cry at that moment. Not so much because she was flirting with him, but because that was the worst pick-up line I had ever heard in my entire life. I had heard countless of bad ones in my life, but that one took the cake. Hell, it took the cake, the cake shop, the employees, and the entire damn block, too.

Tony laughed and smiled embarrassedly. I knew that in his mind, he was searching for something to top it off, but could not find any more cringe-worthy pick-up lines than that. It gave me some sort of relief, too. The world did not need any more cheesy pick-up lines. And from Tony… no, God, just no.

"In that case, you'd be surprised to know that he's actually really hairy," McGee deviously added. Tony discreetly shot him a death glare.

"Oh, I don't mind," Agent Emilia said. "I like men with hair." She turned back to Tony. "So, Tony," she said, "the restroom?"

"Follow me," he told her and they both headed off.

When they were gone, there was a brief moment of silence between McGee and I. "So, Ziva…" he began awkwardly. I looked at him wearily. I was beginning to get a headache. "Wanna go pick up Abby from the hospital now?"

Maybe I needed to be away from the office for a little while.

"Yes," I said. "Let's go."

As we left, I realized there was no way I could compete with this woman. Not that I thought it was mature or anything of the sort to compete for a man, but even if I could, I would not have been able to. Tony was head-over-heels in love with damned Puerto Rico, and a Puerto Rican woman did not make it any easier for me. Besides, I was pretty sure he was done with me. I messed up last night and I was sure that, if anything, it was too late to apologize.

This Christmas was going to be a very,_ very_ sad and painfully slow Christmas.

* * *

><p>McGee and I were in his car and soon on our way to the hospital. He was the first one to speak after he pulled out of the parking lot.<p>

"What do you think of Agent Emilia?" he asked me.

"She is ugly," I said.

He chuckled. "You don't like her already?"

"There is something strange about her."

"Like what strange?"

"I do not know how to explain it."

I looked at him. He grinned. "You're jealous."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Why would I be jealous, McGee?" I snapped at him. "They _just_ met! They are nothing – absolutely nothing."

"Yet."

That one word made my chest constrict and my heart sink. _Yet._ Because of me and my stupid insecurities, I let him go when I had a solid opportunity to go beyond everything that happened last night. And because of me, he could have been doing God-only-knew-what in the bathroom with her at that moment. Sure, it had not even been half an hour since we met her, but Tony had a bit of a reputation for doing things with women not long after meeting them.

"I do not have a good feeling about her," I said finally.

"Is your gut telling you something?"

"Yes. That something is off about her."

He chuckled again. "I don't think so, Ziva. I think you're jealous. You didn't even deny it."

"I am not jealous, McGee. If you tell me I am jealous again, I will kill you with your own rearview mirror."

"Right. Shutting up now." The rest of the ride to the hospital was quiet. By the time I remembered that neither one of us had a coat for Abby, we were already in the elevator. I mentally slapped myself. And that was not the only thing we had forgotten. We also forgot to bring her a Caf-Pow. I could only imagine the angry rant that lay ahead.

We went inside her room to find her awake and full of life, as usual. "Hey, guys!" she said happily. "You're here early! I thought you were going to come at noon."

"Yeah, we were, but Ziva and I decided to come earlier," McGee explained.

"Cool. So where's Tony?" she asked.

"Oh," he began, smiling irritatingly, "Tony's got a new girlfriend."

But Abby seemed appalled at the mere thought. "What? Tony? New girlfriend…. _How?_"

"Relax, Abby, I'm just kidding," McGee assured her, but she seemed anything but convinced. "Tony doesn't have a new girlfriend. But there's this new girl; she's working with another team, and her desk is right next to our section. You can imagine the flirting that went on."

If anything, Abby's face seemed to darken. "What's her name?"

"Special Agent Carla Emilia," I answered. "She's from Puerto Rico."

"Oh, no, that's terrible," Abby said.

"Why?" McGee asked.

"_Because,_ Timmy! Tony loves Puerto Rico!"

"And?"

"Is she pretty?"

"No," I said, while McGee said yes.

"I'll take your word for it, Ziva," Abby said.

"What's the problem? If Tony seems to be interested in this new girl, then I don't see the problem. Besides, he's single."

_Ouch. _

Abby sighed loudly and dramatically. "You just don't get it, Timmy, do you?"

"Get what?" The sad part was that he really did not know.

"Never mind. I'm ready to go home now."

Once we were in the lobby after getting Abby signed out, I took off my coat and lent it to her. She protested, of course, saying that I would be cold without it, and I told her, in other words, that she needed it more than I did. When we stepped outside, it was freezing, but I moved past that (or tried, rather) as we jogged to the car.

"Should we leave Abby at her apartment?" McGee asked once we were inside the car.

I shrugged.

"Why not?" Abby asked. "I'm not sick, McGee. I have a bit of a headache, but I'm not sick."

"I know you're not, Abby, but still. What if you're at home alone and you fall or something? We won't know or be able to keep an eye on you."

"McGee, I'll be fine!" Abby protested. "Stop being so overprotective."

"What about Gibbs's desk?" I suggested.

"What do you mean?" McGee asked.

"I mean, we get some stuff from Abby's apartment, and she can stay at Gibbs's desk until we go home. Or she can get a sleeping bag, we push Gibbs's chair out of the way, and she can stay there. We can all keep an eye on her, and if we catch a case, there'll be other people there that can keep an eye on her."

"That's a good idea," McGee said thoughtfully.

"Why do you guys keep talking about me like I'm not here?" Abby said. "I'm not ten years old!"

I turned to look at her. "Well, what do you think of the idea, Abby?" I asked her.

"Well, I like it," she said, shrugging lightly. "I don't really want to be alone. It's too early to be alone."

McGee and I briefly glanced at each other and shared a small, knowing smile that, thankfully, Abby did not catch.

* * *

><p>It was nearing noon when the three of us were heading back to NCIS. We had already stopped by Abby's house to get some things for her, one of which was a sleeping bag. When she got there, she said a brief hello to Tony, and then pushed Gibbs's desk chair out of the way and comfortably settled herself on the floor inside her sleeping bag along with Bert. McGee and Tony had a better view of her than I did, but I knew they would be paying attention to her.<p>

"Thanks for letting me know that you guys were gonna go pick Abby up," Tony sarcastically remarked, but it was more to McGee than me.

"Well, Tony, you were with your new girlfriend and you were taking her to the bathroom, so I figured Ziva and I had some time to kill," McGee explained. I really wished he would stop referring to the new girl as Tony's _girlfriend_.

"By the way, you still owe me a Caf-Pow, Tony," Abby said from her spot on the floor.

"I haven't forgotten, Abbs," Tony said.

"Mmm-hmm." She sounded sleepy and her voice sounded somewhat muffled. She probably had her face stuffed into either her pillow or Bert and was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Still, McGee, you coulda let me know," Tony hissed a little more quietly.

"Get over it, Tony," he shot back. "It's not the end of the world."

I had to get up and get away, but I gave it another ten or fifteen minutes before I finally stood up from my desk chair and made my way to the bathroom, feeling horrible in every sense of the word. I wanted to be away from Tony and to forget that anything happened last night. But, at the same time, I thought, if someone had given me the chance to rewind time, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

My expectations were running mildly high, but at the same time incredibly low the moment I stepped inside the empty bathroom. I kept thinking that maybe Tony would follow me and ask me what was wrong and that things would go back to normal after that. But I knew that was not going to happen. I screwed up very badly. Even in the midst of all the negativity, there was a small glint hope that he would come.

My heart jumped into my throat when I heard the bathroom door open, although I played it cool. But it soon came crashing back down when I saw it was just Agent Emilia.

My stomach did an uneasy flip-flop. I still did not have a good feeling about her.

"Oh, Agent David," she said, smiling – but there was something in her smile that was hypocritical. "I didn't know you were here."

"That is understandable," I replied curtly. "I did not tell you I was going to be here."

"We got off to a bad start," she said. "But, to be honest, I don't think I want to get on the right track with you." She turned the sink faucet on and began to wash her hands.

"You dislike me and you do not even know me." My words reminded me of what McGee had asked me in the car. Well, in my own defense, I never said I did not like her, but I had a feeling that would all change once we stepped out of the bathroom.

"Frankly, I think you were a bit – what's the right word for it? – rude," she finished. "And, besides, there seemed to be something weird going on between you and Tony."

She never denied it either.

"Agent DiNozzo and I are just fine, Agent Emilia," I retorted. "And even if there _was_ something going on between us, that is none of your business."

She shrugged dismissively. "I'm just saying, I sensed something weird going on. Is he single?"

"Excuse me?"

"Is he single? It's a simple question, _pendeja_."

"We have rules around here, Agent Emilia. They are not my rules; they are my boss's rules. Rule number twelve says that we are not allowed to date co-workers. So, even if Agent DiNozzo was single, you would be out of luck."

"I don't always go by the rules, Agent David. You, your boss, nor anyone on this planet can get me to stop seeing someone if I want to. No one controls my life, much less a couple of NCIS agents."

"Do you like him?" I asked.

"He speaks quite highly of you, you know."

"Does he?" I would have been lying if I had said I was a little surprised.

She smirked again and such a simple gesture made my stomach churn. "He seems to like me, and let's just say I know how to get exactly what I want when I want it. I know a man's weak spot, and Tony is really easy to see through. It wouldn't take me too long to get through to him. Piece of cake, actually." She took a few paper towels and dried her hands off before tossing them in the trash. "For the record, Agent David, it doesn't matter to me what did or didn't go on between you and Tony, but I don't care. Clearly, he likes me, and I'm not going to let you or anyone else get in the way of what I want. You don't run this place, and you don't make everyone's decisions. So, get in my way, and I'll make sure you regret it. Understood?"

I chose my words carefully, but I still thought I was being too gentle. "For the record, Agent Emilia – I speak Spanish, _pendeja_. So I understood what you said."

I was pretty sure she was not expecting that from an Israeli, but at least the comment stunned her long enough for me to walk out of the bathroom, leaving her with her mouth hanging open.

* * *

><p>Pendeja - asshole (for a woman); don't forget to tell me what you all think!<p> 


	10. Tale As Old As Time

Wow! A lot of you guys, if not all, really hated the new agent! :P But it's okay, I hate her, too, and she will be out of the picture very soon(; For now, enjoy and leave a review if you can.

…..

:: Chapter 10 – Tale As Old As Time ::

The rest of the week went by slowly. The only good thing I noticed was that Abby was making a full recovery, although that was something to be expected; but, still, it was good to know she was doing a lot better. Tony and I were gradually starting to talk a little more, but we did not see each other outside of the work setting. Instead, he was too busy with Agent Emilia, and two days after they met, I was already hearing rumors of dinner plans between them after work – a _date_. The mere thought of the word made me sick. Tony could do so much better than her; in fact, he probably _has_ done much better than her.

It was nearing nineteen-hundred hours on the night of Tony's date. Agent Emilia stood at his desk as he was getting some last minute things done and asked him if he was ready. He said he was almost ready and when he was done, he grabbed his belongings and headed out with her. The only thing he left me with was a simple, "'Night, Ziva." I got a small smirk from her, and just like that, they disappeared into the elevator and were gone.

"Ziva," McGee said from his desk, "I think you should go home now. It's kind of late."

"It's almost seven o' clock, McGee," I said. "It's not that late."

"You look exhausted."

Oh, I was. I was sick and tired of feeling sick and being tired. "Is that another way of saying I look like crap?"

"No, it's my way of saying go home and get a well-deserved good night's sleep. I can stay a little while longer and finish some work for you if you'd like."

I shook my head. "Thanks, McGee, but I will not let you do that. I will finish it myself and then go home."

"So you're not gonna go home now?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"No," he said quickly. "I-I mean… No, I'm not trying to get rid of you. I'm just concerned, that's all."

"Concerned about what?"

"About you," he said.

"Why?"

"Because, Ziva, you haven't been very Ziva-ish lately. You mostly look like a car's been repeatedly running you over." I raised my eyebrows at him, and he quickly tried to correct himself. I knew what he was trying to say, even if he did not say it the way he meant, but in all honesty, it was rather humorous to see him squirm as he tried to better explain himself. "I-I-I mean… I don't mean that you look like a car literally ran you over, or that you look like crap or anything like that. W-w-what I meant to say was that you look as if a car ran you over, like-like… like… like you look really, really tired and that you haven't been sleeping well, 'cause-'cause you have bags under your eyes and-and…."

I smiled half-heartedly. "I know what you meant, McGee."

"Oh," he said embarrassedly. "Why didn't you stop me then?"

"Because watching you go all Palmer-like is kind of fun."

"Oh." His gaze dropped.

I sighed. "I guess I will take your advice and leave now. I just want to go home already."

"Good to hear. In that case, good night, Ziva," he smiled sincerely.

"Good night, McGee." I shut down my computer and gathered my belongings. I stood up and went over to his desk. He looked at me weirdly, but softened when I planted a small kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

"No problem, Ziva. Just get some rest, okay?"

"I will," I said, though of that I could not be sure. "You will let me know if you hear anything about Tony's date?"

He smiled. "Oh, you want the dirty details, do ya?"

"I want everything," I admitted. "If he tells you, you tell me, and do not leave any details out." When all I got in response was a stare, I decided to use a bribe as an approach. "I'll bring you coffee tomorrow morning."

"Coffee?"

"Fine, coffee and twenty dollars."

"Deal. But what if DiNozzo doesn't say anything?"

"Beat the answers out of him, McGee. He will want to speak to someone, and you are his best bet. You know – guy talk. If he does not talk, then I will only give you the coffee for attempting. And I keep my twenty dollars."

He nodded. "You got it, David."

The next day, I had a fresh cup of coffee with me once I arrived at work. Tony was not there yet, so I quickly dumped my things at my desk and went over to McGee's desk. "Good morning," I said as I set the coffee cup on his desk. "Tell me everything."

"Ziva, it's almost eight in the morning," he said. "What makes you think Tony already told me everything?"

I was pretty sure my face fell. "So he has not told you anything yet?"

"Well, yes," he grinned.

"Stop playing with me, McGee, and tell me what he said. And do not leave out _any_ details. I want to know everything."

He was torturing me by taking his sweet time in telling me. Before he even began to say anything, he took the cup of coffee and took a sip of it. He nodded contently. "This coffee is good, Ziva. Where did you get it?"

I sent him a glare. "Are you testing my patience?"

His eyes opened wide and he looked a little stunned, maybe even like he was about to wet his pants. "No…"

"Then _talk_."

As he was about to finally speak, the elevator dinged and opened, and Tony and Agent Emilia walked in. It was way too early for Tony to get to work, so I figured he must have had a really good date last night. "Good morning!" he said to us cheerily. My stomach twisted in disgust.

"Morning," we mumbled together.

Tony resumed talking to Agent Emilia, and I signaled McGee to follow me. We went into the elevator, pressed the down button, and then I hit the emergency stop switch. "Okay," I said, "we are alone now. So talk. Tell me. Everything. I want to hear _everything._"

"Okay," he began, "well, after Tony and Carla left NCIS, they went straight to the restaurant. They went to Olive Garden, if I remember correctly. They had dinner, talked, and then Tony drove Carla home, since she left her car in the parking lot because they went out in his car yesterday. So, I'm guessing he picked her up this morning."

"Did he say what they talked about?" I wanted to know.

"Mostly about work and each other. Tony said that she was flirting with him a lot, indirectly hinting that she wanted to be with him."

"Did he flirt back?"

"He didn't say that he did."

That struck me as weird. Tony not flirting back with a woman who was so obviously coming on to him? It was definitely weird.

"Did he mention if they kissed?"

"No. Though if you ask me, I think it's still too soon. They met not too long ago."

"Is that all, McGee?"

"Yeah, that's all I got," he said.

I sighed. "Alright. I'll give you your twenty dollars when I get back to my desk."

He nodded a little. "Uhh, Ziva, can I ask you a question?"

"Okay."

"Why do you want to know about Tony's date so badly?"

"Because I am concerned."

"About Tony? He's not a child, you know."

"I know. But I do not have a good feeling about Agent Emilia. There is something about her that I do not trust… like she is hiding something… I cannot put my finger on it."

"Well, I half agree with you."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean I think that, in a way, you are kind of concerned about Tony. That's understandable, I guess. But that's not the only reason why you want to know so much about how his date with Carla went last night. I think you're jealous, Ziva. And you can deny it all you want, but that's what I think. You're jealous that Tony's with a new girl and not with you instead. Because you lov–"

In an instant, I pinned McGee back up against the wall and my hand flew over his mouth. "Do not say it," I hissed. "Do not even _think_ about it." How dare he even begin to think about bring up the 'L' word? I was not having any of it. "Tony is my partner," I went on. "Nothing more, nothing less. As his partner, I am worried about him, as I well should be. So, do not even say what you were going to say. Are we clear?" He nodded, but it was probably to save his own life.

"Good," I slowly released him and my hand, and in good, dry humor, straightened out the wrinkles of the lapels of his jacket. "But now it is going to be ten dollars instead of twenty."

"I-I… I can live with that."

* * *

><p>The next day, Gibbs was back. He was sitting at his desk, his head buried into a file. McGee, Tony, and I had arrived at the same time to work, and were, needless to say, surprised at his sudden arrival.<p>

"Hey, boss, you're back!" McGee said.

Gibbs looked up at him. "Yeah, McGee, I'm here."

"Sorry, boss, I just… I wasn't expecting you."

Gibbs just looked at him blankly, as though he was expecting him to make a point.

"Uhh… how's your dad, boss? You know, being sick with pneumonia and all," Tony asked.

"Fine. He's doing much better now. Otherwise, I'd still be in Stillwater."

"Good to hear," I said.

"Yep."

"Well, it's great to have you back, boss," McGee said. "We've missed you."

"Don't think I've forgotten about Abby's concussion," Gibbs said. "You three have some serious explaining to do."

"Now?" Tony wondered.

"You wanna volunteer, DiNozzo?" Gibbs retorted.

"Uhh… well… not-not exactly…."

We were saved by a bell named Carla. She stepped into the bullpen from the elevator and headed straight for Tony's desk, not even bothering to dump her things at her desk, or even acknowledging Gibbs sitting at his desk. For a moment, Tony looked relieved, but his expression quickly changed to that of the realization that he was going to get in even more trouble with Gibbs if he just continued to talk to the new agent without filling him in on anything. "Oh, umm… uhh… Carla, this is Agent Gibbs… our _boss_." He extended his hand out towards Gibbs's direction. "Boss, this is Agent Emilia. She… works with another team, but her desk is right next to our section here…"

"Nice to meet you, Agent Gibbs," she said with a bright (and fake) smile as she walked over to him and shook his hand. Gibbs did not even extend his hand; she just grabbed his hand in hers and shook it. "You can call me Carla."

"Anyway…" she went on when she noticed Gibbs was not paying her a fraction of attention, "you have a lovely team. For the most part."

I chuckled to myself sarcastically. I knew she was referring to me. But, I assumed, Tony and McGee did not, much less Gibbs, of course. Tony glanced at me, but that was it. They did not know. I was not going to tell them either. It would only bring problems if I did.

"They're the best damn agents NCIS has," Gibbs answered pointedly. "_All_ of them."

"I don't doubt it, sir."

"Don't call me sir."

"Sorry, sir. I-I mean, Agent Gibbs." Turning a bright red, she turned on her heels and left, muttering something to Tony, which only he understood.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Rule twelve," he reminded him. "No babies allowed here."

The week continued to go by slowly, and I grew more and more anxious when the following week finally came by. I was still seeing pictures of our next case victims, though they were a little less frequent, but I had not seen pictures of Tony and Agent Emilia together. I wondered if those pictures would ever come, but at the same time, I hoped they did not. I did not want to see Tony kissing that stupid new girl. Was it just me or were they totally not right for each other – in every sense of the word? It was not fair. It should have been me instead that he should have been–

_Get the hell over it, Ziva. You screwed up. It is over. Whatever you want is _not_ going to happen. You deserve it. _

I wondered if Tony remembered about our movie night that was coming up. He never mentioned anything else to me about it, or even hinted that he remembered it. I told myself I did not care if he remembered about it or not, but deep down inside, I hoped he did.

To my surprise, he remembered, and to my utter shock, he completely blew it off – and to go on another 'date' with Agent Emilia.

When I approached him on Friday, it was late. Gibbs had left about half an hour before, and McGee was with Abby in her lab, leaving Tony and I alone in the bullpen at our desks. Agent Emilia was in the bathroom, if I was not mistaken.

I came out with it a little bluntly, even for my own liking. "What time do you want me to be at your house?"

He looked at me, confused. "Excuse me?"

"I said what time do you want me to be at your house? Movie night, Tony. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah, movie night." I knew he had not really forgotten about it. "But I'm going out with Carla, Zee. Maybe next week or something." He prepared himself to leave. "Sorry. I promise we'll do it soon, though." With that, he was gone. I wanted to protest that I could not believe that had done what he did, but I was speechless.

I did not really care about whether a movie night was held or not, but that action told me that he was still not over what happened. That or he was trying to piss me off very, very much. I could not blame him, but I would have been lying if I said it did not hurt.

I was not sure how long I was sitting there, looking like a seemingly paralyzed idiot, but soon McGee and Abby were stepping into the bullpen, talking and laughing.

"Hey, Ziva," McGee said as he and Abby went over to his desk, and subsequently, the laughter on their end died. "What's wrong? You okay?"

Unfocused as they might have been, my eyes darted over to them. "I, uhh… yeah. I think so."

"You don't look okay," Abby said.

"I am… fine." But they knew I was not.

"What happened?" Abby asked me anyway. "I know you're not really fine."

I did not really know why I told them. "Tony and I were supposed to have a movie night today, but he said he was going out with Agent Emilia and pretty much cancelled the whole thing."

"Oh, Ziva, I'm so sorry!" Abby exclaimed and nearly attacked me with a huge hug that threatened to squeeze the life out of me. When she let me go, she said, "But I have an idea! Why don't McGee and I join you? We'll go over to your house and watch whatever movie you were going to watch with Tony! Right, McGee? How does that sound?" She was becoming way too excited for comfort over this new and sudden change of plans.

"Huh?" McGee looked hesitant. "Oh, come on, Abby; Ziva's probably really upset about not being able to have a movie night with Tony, so maybe we should leave her alone tonight and not bother her…."

"Oh, stop being such a party-pooper, Timmy," Abby scolded him. "She's upset and probably really lonely and in need of some company from her friends!"

"You do not have to do it if you feel bad for me, you know," I said. "I am not upset." _Liar._ "In fact, if this was my only problem in life, I would be the happiest person alive." _LIAR._

"It's fine, Ziva, really!" Abby insisted. "And Timmy will be more than happy to do it. Right, Timmy?" She elbowed him in the stomach – quite painfully, too – and smiled. McGee tried to disguise the pain, but had a hard time doing so.

"Yes," he squeaked.

There was a grin from ear to ear plastered on her face. "So what movie did you have in mind, Ziva?"

* * *

><p>"<em>Tale as old as time,<br>True as it can be,  
>Barely even friends; then somebody bends<br>unexpectedly…"_

A light snore interrupted the sweet, romantic scene between Belle and the Beast as they prepared to dance the waltz while Mrs. Potts sang. Abby frowned and looked to her left where McGee was sitting right beside me. I followed the gesture. He had fallen asleep on his arm, which rested on the couch's arm rest.

"He's sleeping! This is one of my favorite parts!" Abby whispered to me.

"Mine, too."

"Let's draw on his face," she suggested. "That's what he gets for snoozing off in the middle of the movie."

"Okay," I agreed. As the movie went on, Abby and I went to find some markers. He slept through the whole thing, but at least I did not feel so lonely that night in Tony's absence.


	11. Stock Puzzle

Twelve reviews in the last chapter! I'm so happy! :D Seriously, many thanks to everyone who's reviewed; you all make my day and motivate me to continue writing!

I can guarantee that you'll all hate Agent Emilia by the end of this chapter, more than most of you already do. :P I'm sorry if the chapter is just way too long! I tried not to overload the chapter with too many things at once, but I couldn't stop writing lol (: I also threw in some McAbby in there, since I couldn't help myself. Enjoy and review!

On a side note: what did you all think of the 200th episode? I have to admit that I was really disappointed with it. I didn't think it lived up to its expectations… :( But then, that's just me. I'd like to hear what you all thought!

…..

:: Chapter 11 – Stock Puzzle ::

Sunday was hell.

After running errands for what felt like all day, I came back home to take a quick shower and relax for a while. As I lay down on the couch, I reached for the yellow camera, which was set on my coffee table, and turned it on. There was a whole new set of pictures, but this time, they were different. They were stock photos, so I did not actually see anyone that I personally knew. One would have thought this was automatically better, but it was not.

What this did was send me on a journey to decipher the message behind these stock photos. There must have been a hidden message in it, but I did not know what it was.

And it cost me a potential good night's sleep.

There were only six stock photos in the camera, but all the strain my brain endured felt like six times fifty. The first picture was of a man looking sad. The second picture showed a woman and a man together, laughing and smiling. The third picture had a woman who looked exaggeratedly happy. The fourth one consisted of the same woman with a sneaky and mischievous look on her face. The fifth picture showed a couple sitting on a bench at a park as they held each other's hands, their faces inches apart. And the last picture was a restaurant.

I was utterly confused. I looked through the pictures a few more times, trying to see what they were trying to tell me. Two minutes later, I came up with something small, but it did not help in making out the meaning behind those random photos.

I noticed that the woman that appeared in all four of the six pictures was the same woman. She had black, curly hair and a tan complexion. However, the man that looked sad was completely different from the man that was with the woman in the second and fifth photos.

I continued to go over the photos. There had to be something behind those photos, but for the life of me, I could not figure it out. Why was the woman the same? Why were there two different men? And what was up with the completely random picture of a restaurant? I had so many questions floating around in my head, but had no answers. Ten minutes into the beginning of my brain-strain, I got up and headed into the kitchen to get a snack.

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. Before I knew it, I was reaching for a pen and a notepad at three in the morning. I kept telling myself that I would only spend five more minutes doing all that and that I would then head off to bed, because, seriously, I had to be at work early in a few hours. But my attention never waned. I could not stop what I was doing.

I began to jot down a brief overview of the stock photos onto my notepad:

_#1: Sad-looking man_  
><em>#2: A woman and a man, laughing and smiling<br>#3: Extremely happy woman  
>#4: Sneakydevious looking woman  
>#5: Couple sitting on a bench at a park, holding each other's hands, about to kiss<br>#6: A restaurant _

I looked over my list a few times. Still, nothing came to me. I tried to think up possible scenarios that would somehow connect all these pictures together. As soon as a scenario idea hit me, I wrote it down. It seemed even stupider the second time I read it, though.

_Scenario #1: A sad man goes to a restaurant one day. He sees a woman and a man together, laughing and smiling, and decides he must do something about it. He goes over to the park, where he meets an extremely happy woman. They hit it off right away, and a few days later, they meet up at the park again. They sit at a bench, hold each other's hands and move closer towards each other for a kiss. But the man's sneaky and devious sister has been spying on him and ruins their moment together. _

It was absolutely stupid. Sighing, I turned to a new page on the notepad and began to work on the second scenario.

_Scenario #2: There is a couple sitting on a bench at a park and they are holding each other's hands. They are hungry, so they decide to go over to a restaurant. Their waiter is a sad-looking man. They do not like him so they ask for another waiter. They get an extremely happy waitress. They do not like her either, so they go to another restaurant where they end up getting a very sneaky and devious waitress. She wants to ruin their day, even though she does not know them at all. They get fed up with her, so they go home and make a meal there. _

That was even worse, I realized, after I had read it. I moved on to the third scenario, already knowing it was not going to be better than the first two.

_Scenario #3: A sneaky and devious woman is friends with a very happy woman and a very sad man. They like each other, and the sneaky woman has a plan to get them together. One night, she has a dream about her two friends sitting on a bench at the park, holding each other's hands, but just as they are going to kiss, she wakes up. She decides to set them up on a date at a restaurant. They hit it off and she sees that they are laughing and smiling with each other. So, her job is complete._

I sighed to myself and buried my face in my hands. I knew I could not give up, even though every limb in my body was protesting against my apparent obligation to stay awake and solve the puzzle behind the stock photos. As I went to get coffee, despite the current time, another thought hit me. What if I, for some reason, was right about the scenarios? What if at least one of them were to come true? To whom would those things occur to?

I felt another wave of weariness hit me when I thought of that. But I knew I would not be able to get any sleep that night (or morning, rather) even if I tried. My brain was working on overload; considering the time, I might as well have just gotten the entire job done.

After I poured myself a cup of coffee, I went right back to my couch. I turned to a fresh, blank page on the notepad and began to think of similar scenarios with people I knew personally. It was a little awkward, because it felt like I was about to decide their fate, or that any little thing I did would actually make whatever it was happen.

By six-thirty in the morning, I finished scenario number twenty-eight. The only reason I even stopped was because I put everything away to take a shower. It was time for the day to start, and, needless to say, I was dead tired. My muscles ached like hell and the warm shower water did little to help me feel better. Once I was done, I gathered my things for work, slipped a warm coat on, grabbed my keys, and went out the door.

The morning air was cold and basically ruthless. I could have sworn it felt much colder than it really was. Once I was settled in my car, I turned the heat on and allowed it to circulate before leaving. I had no clue, honestly, how I made it to work in one piece, after not sleeping for so many hours, but I made it. The bullpen was a little quiet when I got there, and only the soft and tired chatter of certain people could be heard. More people were starting to come in, but I saw that no one from my team was there.

As I neared my desk and set my things down, I noticed that McGee was actually already there. His bag was at his desk and his computer was on. If he was not at his desk, then there was only one other explanation for it: he was with Abby.

I took the elevator down to Abby's lab. I neared the lab door but stayed outside. Carefully, I peeked inside, but I did not see either of them in plain sight. I did, however, hear them faintly, but I could not make out anything they were saying – if they even _were_ saying anything. I wondered what they were doing that they sounded so distant.

I leaned against the wall outside Abby's lab and tried to ignore the aching of my muscles all over my body, as well as the fact that I just wanted to close my eyes and go to sleep. I tried hard to avoid closing my eyes just so that I would not _literally_ fall asleep, but suddenly found myself closing them for a moment.

_Just for a few seconds…_ I told myself. It was getting hard to keep my balance.

"Ziva?"

My eyes, thankfully, snapped open and I turned my head to the side. Abby and McGee stepped outside the lab and stood before me. They looked surprised to see me.

"You're here pretty early, Ziva," McGee said.

"Yes," I said. "When I got here, I saw no one from the team, but I did see your stuff. And your computer was on, too, so I thought maybe you were in Abby's lab."

He looked like he was about to answer, but instead Abby stepped in for him. "How long have you been standing out here? Did you see anything? Anything at all? Even just a little glimpse? Please don't tell on us. Don't tell Gibbs," she spoke, as usual, at about a hundred miles per hour.

"Tell Gibbs what?" I asked.

"_Abby,_" McGee hissed, looking at her incredulously, but she was unable to stop.

"That we were totally just making out in here!"

I bit back a laugh, but McGee was not amused.

"Abby!"

"Please don't tell Gibbs, Ziva, pleasepleaseplease!" She attacked me with a hug, which subsequently tested my balance. It caught me by surprise, too, and we both ended up tumbling down to the floor with one hard _thump_. As if my body had not already been aching – and she decided to send us both to the ground.

Abby was quick to leap up off me, and she and McGee both helped me in getting me back on my feet. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Ziva!" she exclaimed and dove in for another hug. I swayed again, but McGee held me steady. "But, please, don't tell Gibbs! Promise me? I'll do anything you want, anything!"

"Abby, I will not tell Gibbs," I assured her with a laugh. "Please. Your secret is safe with me."

"Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!" She hugged me tighter and gave me a huge kiss on the cheek. "You're a good Samaritan, Ziva!"

"Abby, get off her," McGee told her. "You're going to kill her." She let me go, and I actually began to regain feeling in my body again.

"So, uhh, how long have you two been… you know?"

"Dating?" Abby filled in for me.

_At least she admitted it. _

"Yes."

"About three weeks," McGee answered. "And we haven't told anyone yet."

"Well, are you going to?"

"No!" they both said in unison.

"If Gibbs catches us going behind his rule twelve, he'll kill us!" Abby said. "Anyway, this isn't the best place to talk about it. You know Gibbs is like a creepy ninja sometimes. Let's go inside." We went in and she closed the door behind us. She put up her music a little too loud (never minding my growing headache) and led us over to her desk.

"You two do a good job at disguising it," I said. "I would not have guessed it myself." Well, okay, maybe just a little.

"We don't want Gibbs to know," Abby said. "I don't know what he'll do to us if he finds out that we're together. He'll be angry, yeah, that much I know. But Gibbs is super unpredictable. What if he…. Oh, I don't know."

"And don't tell Tony, please," McGee said. "I know you won't tell, but Tony and his big mouth… it could be a problem."

"I will not tell, I promise," I said. "The moment I walk out this door, this conversation never happened."

"Thank you," they both said.

"So that is why you get here so early, McGee," I went on. He became red in embarrassment and I just smiled at him. "I knew there had to be a reason why you always came so early. Normal people usually come in and start working a little bit later than that."

"Normal people? And you started working at Mossad at 0500?" he retorted.

I shot him a wry smile, only to have it be returned with a triumphant one.

"Well, you two should go," Abby said. "Wouldn't wanna get Gibbs suspicious." McGee and I got up to leave, but before we could, Abby stopped her boyfriend. (I was going to have to get used to the sound of that.)

"Wait, Timmy," she said and went up to him. "Your tie's crooked." She fixed and straightened his tie, because she knew that Gibbs would probably have noticed something small like that if none of us did.

* * *

><p>By eight-fifteen, McGee, Tony, Gibbs, and I were all at our desks, all of us working on something different. I was trying hard not to fall asleep, and doing so proved to be quite difficult. I was surprised that none of them had made comments about my terrible appearance, let alone noticed it. If they had noticed, then I would not have been able to tell.<p>

I was thankful when five minutes later, Gibbs got a call. I knew we already had a case, and soon enough, we grabbed our gear and headed out.

At the crime scene, I was having a hard time keeping my eyes open. I busied myself taking pictures of everything, but even that was not enough. I knew that once the clock announced it was 0900, I would have been awake for exactly twenty-four hours straight. My muscles were still greatly aching, and my head was pounding with a headache, although part of the headache had to do with the fact that Tony had been telling a really stupid story that I could not be bothered to listen to.

Instead, my mind was wandering all over the place. I needed to talk to Tony – in private. I did not want to continue having small talk with him, or pretend that nothing ever happened between us and just continue to nonchalantly ignore each other. I hated that elephant in the room.

Once we were done processing the crime scene, Tony, McGee, and I left, but Gibbs stayed behind. Tony drove the van, McGee sat in the middle, and I sat in the corner. It was surprisingly silent the whole way through. When we arrived at NCIS, I did not see Agent Emilia anywhere. So I took advantage of her absence. I went up to Tony's desk as he was scribbling down something on a file he had. He looked up at me when I said nothing.

"You look like hell."

Well, I was not really expecting him to say _that_. But it was so like him to say something like that that my hopes that things were getting better between us soared.

"Can I talk to you, please? In private?" I said quietly.

He nodded and stood up from his desk. With the camera already in my NCIS jacket, I led him over to the elevator. I quickly hit the emergency stop switch and the elevator stopped. We stood in silence as I pulled out the camera from my pocket. "I need to show you something."

"Someone in trouble?" he asked.

"Well…" I began, but stopped. I actually did not know if someone was in trouble or not. "That's where I am kind of stuck. I have some weird pictures here, but I do not know what they mean. I was wondering if maybe you could help me figure it out."

"Okay."

I switched the camera on and showed him the stock photos. He furrowed his brow in confusion upon seeing them. I patiently watched and waited as he looked at the pictures a few times. The frowns he made, the confusion plastered on his face, the way his eyebrows etched together as he thought – it was all enough to make me want to grab his face and indulge him in a heated kiss. We were alone together after all, but I knew I could not do that.

The elephant was still in the way. I _really_ hated that stupid elephant.

"I have no idea what this means," he finally spoke as he handed me the camera. I stuffed it back into my pocket. "Who are these people anyway?"

"They are stock photos, Tony."

"Oh."

"I have not been able to figure it out either. I know there is a hidden message behind it, but I do not know what it is."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You been losing sleep over this?"

"Why?" I asked.

"Just wondering," he shrugged.

I explained to him about how I discovered the pictures last night and I was up the entire time trying to think up possible scenarios to connect the pictures. My attention was on it the entire time, and, indeed, I had lost sleep. I was pretty sure that by that time, it had already been exactly twenty-four hours that I had been awake. I was not sure, and I could not be bothered to ask for the time.

"I wouldn't lose sleep over something like that," Tony said simply. "This could be nothing."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

He looked somewhat bored thereafter. "You done?" His hand reached out to flip the emergency stop switch, but I stopped him with my bluntness.

"Tony, I'm sorry."

He withdrew his hand and looked at me. "What?"

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

"About what?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

He sighed. "It's done, Ziva. It's all in the past now. Whatever happened happened."

"Tony, I know I messed up. I admit it. I should not have let you go after I kissed you. I was stupid. Insecure. Scared, even. I hate myself for it. But I do not want us to go around pretending that nothing ever happened between us and that time will heal everything. You have every right to be angry at me, and I understand that. If I were you, I would be angry with myself as well. But I miss the way we were before that night. I want us to go back to the way we were: you harassing me and me getting fed up with it. I do not want our friendship to disappear over something so silly." I was taken aback at my own directness.

"It wasn't silly when it happened, Ziva."

"I know. I am sorry, Tony. I am stupid."

"What were you scared of?"

The question threw me off a little, but if anything was for sure, he deserved an answer. "Of falling," I admitted, "and not being caught."

"You didn't trust me enough to be able to catch you? We're partners, Ziva. We have each other's backs in everything – at least I know_ I_ do. It doesn't matter what's happening; if you fall, I'll always be there to catch you," he said to me. "But maybe that's not how you see things. You trust me enough to have your back when we're out in the field, but not for the personal things, right? Well, guess, what, Ziva, this isn't Mossad! I'm not a robot who's been trained to do exactly what he needs to do. I care about other's problems. I'm always here for my family."

The only reason I did not want to start crying was because I knew that if I did, I would become ten times more exhausted than I already was. I held back my tears to the best of my ability, although I was sure he could probably see them.

"And over all," he concluded, "I'm always here for you. I'd like to think I've always made that pretty clear."

The best I could come up with was another pathetic and probably meaningless apology. There was more I wanted to say, but I could not find the courage to say it. After he waved off my apology like it was nothing, I leaned in to hug him. He returned it, but it was not as strong as it could have been and had been on other occasions.

"Tony," I said when I pulled away, although I really did not want to, "I just thought I would tell you… be careful with Agent Emilia. Do not ask me why. Just… promise me you will be careful with her."

He flipped the emergency switch back on and the elevator began to move. He gave me a look. It was not one that was completely convinced, but it did not completely disbelieve me either. It was a neutral look. Still, his voice betrayed the nearly unreadable look on his face.

"Why do I feel like trusting your instinct right now?" The elevator landed back on our squad room floor, and with that, he exited. I stayed behind in the elevator and pressed the button down to Abby's floor. It landed there and I stepped outside, knowing full well that I should have been with the group, working on our case.

Gibbs was going to kill me.

I entered Abby's lab and she turned and looked at me. "Ziva!" she said excitedly, but stopped when she took a good look at me. "You look like hell!"

"I know. Tony said the same thing."

"Have you been sleeping lately?"

"Not really…"

She gasped a little too dramatically. "Why?"

"I was up last night doing something… important. I did not sleep last night at all and I am… tired." _To say the very least._

"Oh, my. That's terrible! I hate when that happens! Sometimes I swear I'm an insomniac. It used to happen to me quite a lot in high school. I remember this one time – I had a huge History test coming up one day. And for that test, I had become really, really lazy, so I didn't study beforehand, and ended up cramming everything into my head the night before. So, anyway, I didn't sleep at all that night 'cause I was, you know, studying and all, and I was dead tired when I got to school that morning. Would you believe that I fell asleep halfway through the test, and the teacher flunked me! Huh! All that studying and cramming for nothing! I was so pissed off! I knew I could do well on that test, too! So I totally understand how you feel! If I could, I'd let you sleep on the floor with Bert, but… hey, that reminds me! Don't you have a case you should be working on right now?"

Her words were making me dizzy, although I would have been lying if I had said that that was the first time that day that I felt dizzy. I knew the lack of sleep was having a huge effect on me, and I began to stumble unsteadily as my head began to spin. Luckily, Abby caught me before I could hit the floor.

"Whoa, Ziva, you're in no shape to work!" she said. "Come on, sit down." She led me over to her desk chair, despite my protests that I was fine and that I was just feeling a little light-headed.

"Abby, I am fine," I said, but my head was throbbing a little too forcefully for comfort.

"You're not fine! You practically _passed out_ on my floor! You should tell Gibbs that you need the rest of the day off. You shouldn't be working. He'll understand."

"The last excuse he will want to hear is that I did not sleep and that I should go home because I am tired. It is not his fault or the team's fault that I did not fall asleep last night."

"But, Ziva…"

"Abby, please. It's gonna take a lot more than lack of sleep to send me home."

"Yeah, maybe like lack of _work._"

We both turned to look at Gibbs standing a few feet away from us.

"Gibbs!" Abby was clearly alarmed. Neither one of us had heard him come.

"Funny how I seem to have two agents working on a case when I distinctly remember having three."

"Sorry, Gibbs," Abby said apologetically. "It's not Ziva's fault. She was–"

"Just heading back to work," I butted in, not willing to let her finish that sentence. "Sorry, Gibbs. It will not happen again."

"I was hoping that would come in effect the last thirty times," he said dryly. I followed him out of Abby's lab. I glanced over my shoulder and managed to catch a glimpse of a worried face looking right back at me.

* * *

><p>The next day, Abby approached my desk at around eleven in the morning, just as I was practically smothered in paperwork. My mind was elsewhere, and I was mostly pretending to be working, as I scribbled on a small piece of paper to make it look like I was actually working.<p>

Every head turned to look at the scientist. Given the way she was walking, a few paces too quickly (even for her), we all could tell something was up. Indeed, she was in a bad mood that morning.

"What's wrong, Abbs?" Gibbs asked.

"Nothing," she snapped.

"Obviously, something's wrong if you're acting like _that._"

"Acting like _what!_"

"_That_," Gibbs replied calmly.

"Nothing's wrong with me, Gibbs! Just stay off my case, okay?"

"You need something, Abby?"

"Yeah, I need to talk to Ziva."

I really did not want to make her angrier, so I simply closed the file folder on my desk and stood up and followed her. We stood before the elevator but did not go in. "You okay, Abby?" I asked her. To my relief, she calmed down around me.

"Fine, I just… Remember when I was in the hospital? And I was talking to you about my adoption? Well, I was just talking to Kyle and we decided to meet up for lunch in like twenty minutes. And I was hoping you could…"

"Go with you?"

She nodded, almost sheepishly.

"Okay. I will go with you."

She hugged me. "Thank you! I'll meet you in my car. I have to get my keys and my coat and stuff."

I headed back to my desk and grabbed my coat and several other things. Gibbs, Tony, and McGee were looking at me expectantly.

"What's up with Abby?" Tony asked.

"Nothing," I said simply. "I have to do something important, Gibbs. So I am taking an early lunch." Thankfully, he said nothing, but I knew all their eyes were on me until the moment I stepped in the elevator.

(-/-)

Abby drove. She and her brother were to meet up at a relatively new restaurant, which was about a year and a half old, and two miles away from the navy yard. Situated right across a lengthy park with a nice, green view, the restaurant had a beautiful outdoor seating, where the three of us took a table.

The moment I set eyes on Abby's brother, before she had introduced us, I was aghast. I could not believe the striking resemblance they both held. They had the same eye color and skin color and just about everything. It was like looking at a male replica of Abby.

_Holy. Shit. _

"What?" Abby turned to me.

"What?"

"You just said, 'Holy shit'," she told me.

I was not even aware I had said that out loud. "Sorry," I apologized. "I did not mean to say that. I just… I cannot believe how much you two look alike."

"Wish I could say I get that a lot," Kyle joked. Abby forced a laugh, which sounded real, but I could tell right away it was not.

We took our seats at the table outside, and I was, for the most part, enjoying the nice, clear day, no matter how cold it was. Not too many people were around at that time, so it was mostly nice and peaceful. I had to admit that the view was very nice and enjoyable. It could have been a great place to sit down and think.

"So, Abby," Kyle said, as he took a sip of his diet coke once our drinks were brought to us, "have you given any thought about meeting Mom and Dad?"

"Uhh, yeah," she said. "I've been thinking about it. Where in Florida do they live again?"

"West Palm Beach."

"Right. West Palm Beach," she sighed. "Well, I'm ready to meet them. That is _if_ they want to meet _me_."

He smiled at her encouragingly, and for a moment, I could swear they were twins with those matching smiles. "They'll be thrilled, Abby. Don't worry. They're going to love meeting you."

"I hope so."

They continued their small talk about their biological parents and so forth, but if they talked about anything other than that, I really did not know. Because the restaurant was nearly empty, our orders came quickly. My appetite, however, was mostly weak, and so, for that reason, I ordered a small sandwich. Abby seemed to be starving. She ordered a (huge) Caesar salad, a double cheeseburger, and two sides of mashed potatoes with gravy. Kyle only ordered a bacon sandwich, which he had double portioned.

The sandwich was alright. But the food was not the worst part of my early lunch break. I ended up choking a little on my drink and immediately spit it right back out into my cup. I was not sure if the reason for my choking was the fact that I wanted to laugh in incredulousness or scream in rage.

Abby and Kyle were staring at me, asking me if I was okay.

"I am fine," I squeaked. "My drink just went down the wrong pipe."

It was not completely a lie, and I knew what triggered it. In the park across from us sat Agent Emilia on a bench. Right next to her was a man, whose hands were in her grip and whose face was inches apart from hers. All the scattered pieces of the stock photos puzzle that had previously cost me a good night's sleep finally came together as realization dawned on me.

The man she was with was not Tony, and she did not hesitate to eat his face off with a kiss.


	12. Witch Hunting

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed! You guys are all so nice and awesome! :D I didn't plan to end the chapter where I did, but if I hadn't stopped, this would have been extremely long, lol. The next chapter will pick up from here. I hope you all enjoy it and please review. (:

…..

:: Chapter 12 – Witch Hunting ::

If I had not known any better, I would have said that Agent Emilia was a demon that ascended straight from hell. Good thing I did know better and that I did not fall for her charm or anything, so that I could safely come to the conclusion that, indeed, she was a demon from hell.

My chest constricted painfully when I set eyes on Tony again after lunch. How would I tell him about this? He had to know that whatever he had going on with the new agent was all a lie. She was a deceiving bitch, and he did not deserve this. He did not deserve to suffer and to go through pain because _I_ messed up. Once again, I felt a pang of guilt hit me. I caused this and it was all my fault.

When Agent Emilia walked in to the bullpen and approached Tony's desk, I literally felt sick to my stomach. She was lucky that Gibbs was out on a coffee run so that he couldn't tell her to leave Tony the hell alone and get back to her own damn work. Seeing her standing there, laughing and giggling at everything he was saying, twirling her finger in her curls, and acting like the epitome of stupidity, to the point where even McGee was rolling his eyes at it, I had to swallow the bile back in my throat. The sight of her disgusting self made me want to throw up.

That day, I said nothing. I began to question myself. What if I had seen wrong? What if it really was Tony? Maybe Tony wore a disguise with her and got back to NCIS in time to change out of it. Or what if it had been her brother? It was gross, yeah, but Angelina Jolie did the same thing with _her_ brother. It was not really _unheard_ of.

_Really, Ziva? Kissing her brother and using Angelina Jolie as an excuse? _

I knew I could not convince myself that I was wrong. It was another guy and I knew it. I silently made a decision to myself. I would start witch hunting, or _bitch_ hunting. Nobody had to know. I would discreetly follow her around whenever she went out and was not with Tony and see what she was doing and not let it be known to anyone. I could keep a secret. Thankfully, Abby was not in that situation. She would have spilled the news in less than twenty minutes after it happened.

I left work a little early – though not early enough to arouse suspicion – already feeling a migraine coming.

The next day, when Gibbs went out for a coffee run, McGee was likely in Abby's lab (I could only wonder what _they_ were doing in there…), and Agent Emilia was out only God-knew-where, probably screwing her _other_ boyfriend, I approached Tony's desk. He had taken advantage of the moment to play some stupid zombie game while Gibbs was out. And I took advantage of the moment to approach him and talk to him.

I neared his desk. He glanced at me a few times before he paused his game. "What?"

"Are… you busy?" _Are you busy? Really? What kind of a question is that?_

"Not _exactly_…." He stopped. "Why?"

"Oh, I was just thinking about something, and I thought maybe I could talk to you about it. Since McGee is not here and Gibbs… well, you know how it is with Gibbs."

"Okay. What's on your mind?"

I hesitated for a moment and then said, "Hypothetically speaking – and I mean, like, very, _very_ hypothetically – what if I told you that your girlfriend was cheating on you?" As I waited for him to reply, I held my breath – something I was not aware I had done at that very moment.

"Excuse me?"

I remained silent. It would have been far too awkward to repeat that again.

"Are you seriously asking me that question?"

I finally let out that breath I did not know I had been holding. "What, do I look like I was joking or something?"

"Ziva… what kind of a question is that?"

_The kind that needed an answer?_ I knew I would have come off as a smart mouth if I had said that, so instead, I said, "What? Is it so bad that I ask? I said it was hypothetical."

"And I think it's _not. _Questions like that aren't hypothetical."

We endured a few moments of glaring at each other, possibly wondering which one of us was going to break first. I did. He was waiting for an answer, and I had to give it to him, no matter how badly it pained me to have to do so. "Tony," I sighed, feeling defeated, "Carla is not all she seems to be." I was met with more silence and continued, "You know the stock photos I showed you? I finally found out what they meant."

"Okay…"

"She's cheating on you and she's hurting you by doing so, and that explains the photo of the sad man. And the photo of the man and the woman would be her and the other guy she's with. She's happy with him, and that's why there was a photo of a woman laughing and looking happy. She's also a sneaky bitch, and that explains the photo of the devious-looking woman. I saw her the day before yesterday; she was at a park, sitting on a bench with the other guy. I was in a restaurant with Abby – in the outdoor seating area. The park is right across from the restaurant so I was able to get a good look at her. She's not the little angel you think she is."

He was silent for a few more seconds. "Ziva… that's really absurd."

My jaw nearly hit the floor then. "Tony…"

"It's just… it's more absurd than McGeek times twenty combined!"

"Are you calling me a liar?" I shot back.

"Okay, now you're just twisting my words."

"I am not twisting anything!" I said defensively. "Tony, I know what I saw, and I am just looking out for you! I would not intentionally lie to you about something like this! I would be very angry if someone lied to me about something like this. You are my partner. Why would I do that to you?"

"Because you're jealous," he hissed quietly, in my face. "That's all there's to it; that's all there ever is to it. You're jealous."

So much for feeling like 'trusting my instinct.' I could seriously not believe he did not believe me.

"You said you wanted to see the pictures happening for yourself."

"And so far I've seen nothing."

"What do I have to do to prove to you that Agent Emilia is a lying, cheating, little bitch?"

"_Prove it _to me."

I might as well have just been slapped in the face, and even then, that would have felt better than what I was feeling. It was such a terrible and much dreaded feeling to know that Tony did not believe me about Carla. Still, I knew what I had seen, and if I had to go to the end of the world to prove it to him, I would do it. Agent Emilia was an ungrateful, lying, filthy bitch that did not deserve so much as half an inch of Tony's attention. I hoped she dropped dead where ever she was.

"This is unbelievable! I cannot believe that you do not–"

"I'm not going to argue about this anymore, Ziva," he cut me off. "Tell you what: I'll snoop around a little bit, okay? If anything seems out of the ordinary, I'll talk to her about it. If not, we're dropping this. That means you, too."

I still could not believe it.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm killing zombies here." He returned to his game. For a few moments, I stood there, not moving, still in shock. My brain was still registering and processing everything he had just said. I felt like I was going to scream, and I knew I had to get away. I trudged off into the bathroom, very much needing to cool off.

* * *

><p>The New Year was spent in the bullpen, as we worked on a case – even if it had been the weekend.<p>

It was really not my ideal way to spend New Year's Eve, but I was thankful that Agent Emilia was not there to ruin things. She had left earlier since her team had supposedly finished their work for the day, but I was not convinced that was so. She had probably begged her team leader to let her go early so she could see her other boyfriend. I found myself wondering often if the other guy she was with knew what a cheating bitch she really was.

Tony had said he was going to 'snoop around' but if he had, he was obviously not having any luck with finding any suspicious activity. He never mentioned anything to me about finding anything. Truthfully, he did not look like the type to take cheating easily, so Agent Emilia must have been doing one hell of a job hiding her other relationship.

The second the clock struck twelve and all our computers and phones marked the first minute of the new year, Abby came running out of the elevator with an air horn and a bag of confetti. She ran into our section, throwing the confetti wildly up in the air, yelling, "Happy New Year!"

When her confetti ran out, she proceeded to continue making noise with the air horn. She did not hear Gibbs telling her to stop the noise. In fact, she did not hear anyone yelling at her to stop. All the noise attracted not only the attention and annoyance of everyone that was still left in the squad room, but also of Ducky and Palmer, who came running out of autopsy and all the way there, and ultimately, Vance.

Vance, not even shielding his ears from the loud noise, gave Gibbs a glare. Eventually, McGee practically tackled Abby to the ground and managed to grab the air horn away from her.

"McGee! What are you–"

"I'm sorry, Abby, but I had to! Do you realize how _annoying_ that is!"

My ears were ringing. I was pretty sure everyone's ears felt the same, too.

"No need to yell, Agent McGee," Vance said calmly.

"I'm not yelling," McGee said loudly. I did not think he was yelling, but with that ringing sound in my ears, and the fact that I was probably partially deaf for the time being from all that noise, I could have been wrong.

"Just give me the air horn," Vance instructed.

McGee handed him the air horn, which Vance took, and as he walked away, he tossed it in the trash can. Abby squealed in complain and went to retreat it, but Gibbs stopped her.

"Go back to work, Abbs," he said.

"What?" she asked.

"_Go back to work, Abbs,_" he repeated a little louder.

"Okay, Gibbs!" She skipped out of the bullpen and back towards the elevator. "Happy New Year, everyone!"

"Thank God you took that thing away from her," Tony sighed in relief. "Cuz I was going to, and it was not going to be pretty." Most of us ignored him as Ducky began to speak.

"Jethro, what in God's name was that all about?"

"That was Abby's way of wishing everyone a Happy New Year."

"I-I thought there was like a fire or something," Palmer stuttered. Everyone glared at him before he cowered a little and said, "What?"

Ducky sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Mr. Palmer, let's go back to work." I went back to work myself as they left, knowing that that was the most excitement we would get on New Year's Day.

I continued to follow Carla as I had been doing. No one knew that I was following her around, and I intended to keep it that way. I figured I could catch her doing something we both knew she should not have been doing and quietly fix things, involving Tony in it only when it was necessary.

My stomach still churned in disgust whenever I saw her talking to him. It was like a very gradual form of torture. Tony was simply clueless. He refused to believe that this woman had been cheating on him – and who knew what else she was hiding from everyone?

On the second Tuesday of January, I awoke to some odd pictures of myself. There were only three pictures in the camera, but it was enough to make my heart skip a beat and wonder what was going to happen to me next and when. I learned the hard way that whether or not I liked it, the things the camera showed me eventually ended up happening. There was not an instant where I was shown something and it did not happen.

On the first picture, my face was scratched and there was blood coming from some of the scratches. There was a bump on my forehead, worse than Abby's. On the second picture, while I still looked like I had the crap beaten out of me, I also noticed that my Star of David pendant was missing. I did not know how it would go missing because I did not take it off for anyone unless it was absolutely necessary, or when I took a shower or something like that (and even sometimes I showered with it). And finally, the third picture looked a little chaotic. Gibbs, Tony, and McGee were standing outside a house that had concrete block walls. I did not recognize the house. There was a medic van there, and a few other people around the house, but I did not recognize anyone, except for my team. All I knew was that in that last picture, I did not see myself in it.

When I got to work, I thought I would say good-bye to everyone I was closest to, just in case I happened to die later on throughout the day. I was still going to follow Agent Emilia that day even if it killed me – literally. I started with McGee, since he was the first one to arrive at the bullpen.

"McGee," I began after we had said good-morning to each other, "have I ever told you that you are the nicest and sweetest guy I have ever met in my life?"

He furrowed his brows in confusion. "I don't think so; no."

"Well, I am telling you now, McGee," I said.

"What do you want?"

"What?"

"You're complimenting me, so you must want something. What do you want? Need to borrow twenty dollars? Want me to find more information about Tony and his girlfriend or something?"

"Can I not tell a friend how much I appreciate him?"

"Yeah, but… usually that kind of appreciation has something tied to it."

"I am offended," I said, "that you would think such a thing of me. I am not Tony!"

"I-I don't…"

I wondered why I enjoyed seeing him squirm so much, but anyway, I settled with, "Just stop talking, McGee."

"Okay," he complied and became quiet.

When Gibbs and Tony arrived, I attempted saying something nice without provoking suspicion and sounding too sappy in the process. They ignored me for the most part and brushed off what I had to say. The hours went along a little slowly. I was becoming more and more anxious by the minute. I felt like I had to go to the bathroom, but I did not give in to it. I could not. At any given moment, Agent Emilia was going to stand up and leave the building, to go do whatever it was that she was going to do.

When she did, I was on her tail.

It was time for our lunch break, but none of us, except for Gibbs, took it. Gibbs was out on perhaps his fifth coffee run, Tony was playing his stupid zombie game again, and McGee was watching videos online.

Once Agent Emilia stepped into the elevator, I stood up and announced, "I'm going to take a lunch break. Be back in about an hour or so. Maybe a little more."

Tony and McGee were both too enwrapped in what they were doing that they ignored me. I rolled my eyes and left. The only things I had taken with me were my coat and cell phone, and soon, I was following Agent Emilia.

On the road, I kept my distance, so as to not make her wary of me. She was on her way to a place I was not familiar with. She stopped at an equally unfamiliar neighborhood and parked her car. I parked a few houses down and waited a few minutes. Once I was sure everything was clear, I stepped out and ran along the sidewalk all the way up to the house. For a moment, I was unsure of which house it was, but two things suddenly stood out, and I knew that I was at the right house.

I immediately spotted her car, and I recognized her house as the one I had seen in the camera this morning. I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

_I didn't get to say good-bye to Abby or Ducky or Palmer! Damn it!_

Carla's backyard was fenced around with a nice, white, vinyl picket fence. It was nothing I could not get past. I had climbed and jumped over way too many things in the past before, and that was certainly no challenge for me. (Although, the crazy, daredevil side of me briefly wished it had been a ten-foot tall fence, so that I could have been really challenged, but coming to my senses, I was glad it was not.)

Once I passed the fence, I went around to the back of the house. I could avoid being seen from the front that way – _if_ Emilia and her boyfriend were by the front door. By this point, my heart was pumping hard against my chest that I felt like taking off my coat. In the forty-something degree weather we were having, I felt hot. At some point, I felt beads of sweat running down my forehead. For a moment I wondered why I was feeling so nervous. I was doing something completely sneaky and devious, but I had to remind myself that it was for Tony. I had a feeling he would believe me after all this was over – if I survived it, anyway.

Carla's house was a one-story house, making it all the easier for me to take a peek through the windows. The first window in the back of the house that I spotted was the bedroom window. I could hear people talking from the inside, but it sounded muffled. I did, however, manage to catch loud female giggling sounds, which continued to rise an drop in volume. I wondered what Emilia's boyfriend must have been doing to her to make her laugh like _that_. Not even Tony got giggles like that out of her.

I stood on my tip toes and pressed my ear against the cold window, which was covered by a medium-dark-colored brown curtain from the inside. By that point, I was able to catch a few words from their conversation, but still nothing that I could piece together to come up with a conclusion.

Just then, my phone began to ring loudly with a familiar _Ghostbusters_ ringtone. I scrambled to fetch for my phone to put off the sound, but with every passing second, my hands were becoming massive pools of sweat. My phone was in my pocket, and a simple action like pulling it out and rejecting my incoming call seemed impossible.

Abby was calling me. She was the only person in my phone who had a specialized ringtone.

When I managed to pull out my phone, I accepted the call and pressed it against my ear. She didn't wait for me to begin speaking before she began to speak herself. "Hey, Ziva, I'm sorry to be bothering you right now. I know you're on your lunch break and all, but I was going to the squad room to talk to you and stuff, but I saw that you weren't there, so when I asked the guys, Tony told me you were on your lunch break. Anyway, I'm really sorry to have to be calling you at this time, since you're probably trying to enjoy your lunch, and you probably don't really wanna talk to anyone right now, but I really needed to talk to you about something really important…."

I tried to squeeze in a word between her continuous babbling, but I could not. In the midst of her rambling, I pressed my other ear against the window again and was met with silence. There was absolutely no noise coming from the other side and that worried me.

Abby was still rambling, and I was not listening to anything she was saying. I tried once or twice more to get her to try and stop talking, as well as try to say something, but she continued to talk. She never took a breather. Of all days and hours and minutes to call, she had to choose that very moment to do so.

And then, as quickly as it came, I felt someone grab my hair from behind me, pull me back, and slam my face into the wall before me. I'd been in worse situations, of course, and had things worse than having my face slammed into a wall happen to me, but the fact that the wall was a concrete block-type of wall really did not help. I thought I heard a shriek of some sort escape my lips before a huge wave of dizziness took over me.

I really could not remember all that much of what happened right after that. My phone fell out of my hand and I could vaguely remember Abby's voice ringing in my ear for a few more minutes before it faded away completely. My legs felt like noodles, and I was being dragged somewhere, but for the life of me, I had no clue where.

My vision was hazy. I was dizzy and felt nauseous. Time seemed to have been going extremely slow, because it felt like hours before I found myself tossed on a couch. I sat up, which really did not help in making me feel any better.

I blinked a few times, trying to rid myself of the blurriness in my vision. Thankfully, it began to clear up some. I blinked a little more and found Agent Emilia was peering right at me.

"You know what's something I absolutely love?" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I love when I take a lunch break and go home to relax for a little while before going back to work. I love it even _more_ when I find another agent sneaking into my property. Right outside my bedroom window, no less."

Despite the pounding in my head, I spoke. "You are done with, Special Agent Emilia. I know you're cheating on Tony."

I knew for a split second I was seeing double, because I could have sworn I saw two of her charging towards me. "You been spying on me or something, Agent David?"

"Does everything have to be about you?" I retorted.

She laughed incredulously and struck me in the face hard enough to bust my lip. I played it cool around her, which only seemed to anger her more.

"I knew you were a little bitch the moment I laid eyes on you," she spat.

"I guess the feeling is mutual."

"You know, if we were in high school, I wouldn't hesitate for _one millisecond_ to break your stupid face into pieces."

"That may be so, but if I were you, I would be more concerned now about what Tony will do when he finds out."

Her eyes widened, although she tried to hide it. "You know, I can charge you with criminal trespassing," she said, "and make this harder for both of us. But, of course, we can save ourselves the trouble and make a little deal." She did not wait for me to answer. "You keep your trap shut, and I forget all about this. I'll leave you alone and you leave me and Tony alone."

"I can keep quiet about this for the rest of my life, but Tony is still going to find out about this. You are a coward, Carla."

She was giving me a death glare, but I was unfazed by it. If anything was going to kill me, it was going to be the killer headache I had and not her.

"Fine!" she said. "You wanna know why I got bored of Tony? It's impossible to talk to that man! Impossible! All he ever talked about was you! Sure, we went on a few dates and I was able to talk to him about other things, but somewhere down the line, he ended up talking about you! It was all Ziva this, Ziva that! You tell me you wouldn't get annoyed if you went out with a man and all he ever freakin' talked about was some other girl!"

I was stunned into silence. I was barely able to form a coherent thought in my head. If Agent Emilia continued to ramble after that, I really could not remember anything else she said. The next thing I was aware of was that she was staring again, but she wasn't staring at me directly. She was eyeing my neck.

"That's a nice necklace, Agent David," she said. "It'll look better in my trash can." She proceeded to harshly rip it off my neck. I could literally feel the pendant's clasp snap and break. Sadly, I was very, _very_ aware of what was happening in that moment, but again, I was shocked. It reminded me of my time in Somalia, when Saleem Ulman ripped the original Star of David pendant I had off my neck.

For several different reasons, my pendant was special to me. To have it callously ripped off from me like that by a witch like _her_ perturbed me in a way I could not so easily explain. I must have been feeling extremely tired and drowsy because I did not physically fight back or anything. Instead, I fought back tears. I bit my lip, but let it go when I realized I bit down on a painful area. That day was just getting worse and worse.

An unfamiliar male voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"_Mi amor, __¿__cuál es el problema?_" asked a man as he emerged from a room.

Agent Emilia turned, and slowly, I followed the voice. "_Nada, mi amor. Regresa al cuarto y espérame ahí,_" she told him.

I realized that this man had nothing but boxers on. Any time now would have been the perfect time for Tony to come walking in. He would have been in for a huge surprise. Thinking of Tony made me wonder what I was going to do to ever get out of Agent Emilia's house. I felt trapped, and it was looking impossible to get out of there.

The man did not budge. "_¿__Quién es ella?_"

Carla was getting annoyed now. "_Alguien del trabajo._"

He glared at her and began to walk towards me. "You work with her?" he asked me.

I only looked at him. Was it too much to want someone to come and get me out of that mess? I just wanted everything to be over.

"Are you deaf or something?"

I still did not answer him, but Carla felt the need to answer for me.

"_Se metió en el patio. Estaba tratando de escuchar lo que estábamos diciendo. Le rajé la cara contra la pared._"

He nodded. "_Mátala._"

I chuckled at him, but as I grinned, I could feel the dried blood on my face. "You know I can understand what you both are saying. I am not stupid. I speak ten languages. We can still walk out of here and forget this ever happened, Agent Emilia." I was only throwing her words right back at her. If she thought even for one second that I was going to walk out of there and not say absolutely anything, she was dead wrong. She could have thrown all the charges in the universe at me that she wanted, but I was not going to keep my mouth shut about anything.

"That's it. I'm done playing games with you." She went over to me and grabbed a handful of my hair and, painfully, dragged me up to my feet with it. I barely winced, but my head was throbbing from it. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shove my gun in your mouth and pull the damn trigger."

I could not give her a reason. My vision seemed to be clouding up again, affecting my ability to concentrate for the most part. But, as it turned out, I did not have to give her a reason, because someone else did. As if on cue, the door burst open at that very moment, and I could swear I had never felt so damn happier in my entire life.

"Touch her again and handing over your badge is going to be the least of your worries."

My heart fluttered at the sound of the voice. His gun was pointed at her. It was Tony.

* * *

><p>- <em>Mi amor, <em>¿<em>cuál es el problema?_ : My love, what's the problem?

- _Nada, mi amor. Regresa al cuarto y espérame ahí._ : Nothing, my love. Go back to the room and wait for me there.

- _¿__Quién es ella?_ : Who is she?

- _Alguien del trabajo. _: Someone from work.

- _Se metió en el patio. Estaba tratando de escuchar lo que estábamos diciendo. __Le rajé la cara contra la pared. _: She got in the patio. She was trying to listen in to what we were saying. I slammed her face against the wall.

- _Mátala. _: Kill her.


	13. The Rest of the Story

As usual, thank you, everyone for your reviews :D Tee hee! I thought I'd use a different approach to tell what happens after the last chapter, so I hope you all enjoy. Also, there's quite a lot of Abby/Ziva here(: And don't worry everyone, more Tiva will be coming soon. Enjoy and review if ya can!

…..

:: Chapter 13 – The Rest of the Story ::

"Hey, Ziva," McGee began with a sigh, as he walked up to my desk; a tall, dark figure hid behind him, gripping his shoulders, nails sturdily digging into them, "Abby wants to know if you would like to stay at her place tonight."

"Why can't Abby ask me herself?" I asked. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Tony lift his head up in curiosity, although he remained quiet.

McGee just sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because she thinks you hate her," he said in annoyance.

I cocked my head to the side, trying to take a peek at the scientist who kept cowering behind her boyfriend the more I looked. "Abby, I do not hate you," I said, even though I could not see her face.

"Are you sure?" she asked in a small voice, still shielding her face behind McGee's back.

"Yes."

"Really sure?"

"_Yes._"

"Like absolutely _positively_ sure?"

"Abby, I do not hate you!" I repeated, giving out an unceremonious laugh. "Why would I hate you?"

"Because I almost killed you today."

I could see Tony shift in his chair uncomfortably, but he continued to remain quiet. I knew that he knew that I noticed it, but I ignored it. Instead, I flashed a smile, knowing that somewhere behind McGee, she was looking at me. "I am not angry at you for that," I said. She stuck her head out a little bit over McGee's shoulder, but I could still only see her eyes looking back at me. "If anything, I should be thanking you for today."

* * *

><p><em>Carla's face was about as red as the blood on my face. There seemed to be embarrassment and even shame plastered on her face upon seeing Tony. His face, however, showed the complete opposite. There was rage and anger marking his usually delicate features and a fire burning in his eyes. But it was impossible to tell what exactly had been going on through his mind. <em>

"_Tony, I-I know this looks bad, but trust me… I can explain…." _

"_Explain what?" Tony growled at her as he carefully neared us. "Who the hell this man in his undies is?" _

_The man looked shocked, to say the least. "What the hell is going on here? Who are you?" he asked. _

"_He's no one…" Carla began, but the man interrupted her. _

"_No one? He comes barging in here with a gun and he's no one?"_

"_Sweetheart, I can explain…" _

"'_Sweetheart'?" Tony also interrupted. "Wait a minute; you've been seeing someone else? You already have a boyfriend?"_

"_Tony, please, if you would just let me explain…" _

"_The hell with explaining!" he barked, almost in a Gibbs-like tone. "I think the practically-naked man is all the explanation I need!" _

"_Speaks volumes for me," the man said and turned over to Carla. "I can't believe you. You're a two-timing, selfish whore, and I hope you rot in the depths of hell, Carla!" _

_The dumb, cowardly bitch was on the verge of tears. "You don't understand, Tony!" she began her sob-story. "It was never about me, about us! All you ever talked about was Ziva! What does she have that I don't? What makes her better than me? She's a self-absorbed skank! Everything always had to be about her!" She was probably making another move to hit me, but Tony was suddenly springing into action again. Before I knew it, he was closer to us and his gun was practically shoved right in her face. _

"_Don't even think about it," he said warningly. _

_Carla looked torn. If I did not absolutely despise her guts, I would have felt sorry for her. But then again, she fed off attention, and that was something I was not willing to shower her with. She did not deserve any more of it than she already had._

"_If I were you, I'd shoot her," her other boyfriend said. _

_Tony glanced at him, never moving his gun away from Carla. "Don't tempt me." _

"_Rob, I promise you, I can explain," she pleaded to him. He protested in response, and they began arguing, their argument turning into a heated one. Gibbs suddenly came in through the front door. He said something to Tony, who put away his gun, and soon, we were both out the door. We stopped once we were a few feet away from the front porch. I could feel myself coming down from an adrenaline high. My knees were barely able to support my weight, and I crumbled unto Tony. He reacted quickly and swiftly caught me before I could hit the ground. _

"_McGee!" he yelled to McGee, who seemingly popped out of nowhere, his voice edging on the border of franticness. "McGee, a little help here!" _

"_I found Ziva's phone, Tony!" he announced. "It was near the window in the backyard!" _

_The next thing I knew, I was being set on the ground since there was no other place for any of us to sit. I heard McGee's voice come closer to us. As we sat on the ground, Tony's hands were cupping my face, looking over all the 'damage'. My head was pounding in pain and my face stung. Everything hurt. _

"_Oh, my God." McGee knelt down beside us. "What happened?" _

"_I don't know," Tony answered, "but it doesn't look good, McGee. Ziva's looking really pale right now."_

* * *

><p>"Thanking me?" Abby raised her voice as she jumped out from behind McGee. "But, Ziva, I almost had you killed! If I hadn't called, we wouldn't be in this situation!"<p>

"If you had not called, Agent Emilia would have done something to me and none of you would have known."

She thought about it for a moment.

I would probably never know if she ever truly believed it herself, but it made sense. Her calling me at the really wrong moment actually did more good than harm.

* * *

><p><em>The feeling of nausea came over me again, but I just pushed Tony's hands away from my face. It was not that I wanted to, but still, it was the least he deserved after everything that had happened. He, however, was in no mood to argue or fight with me, so his hands went right up to my face again. <em>

"_There's a huge bump on her forehead," he said. McGee took a look. "It looks like the one Abby had."_

_McGee shook his head. "No, that one's much worse, Tony." _

"_God, Ziva, what the hell happened to you?" Tony asked, but I was not sure if his question was rhetorical or not. "McGee, do you have wipes or something?" _

"_No, I don't have wipes! Why the hell would I have wipes? What for, anyway?" _

"_Why don't you have wipes, McUnprepared? You're supposed to always have wipes with you!"_

"_You don't either!" McGee was exasperated. "I'm gonna call the medics, okay?" _

_Tony rolled his eyes in sheer impatience and turned to look at me again. He brushed his thumb across one of the scratches on my face. It stung even more and I pulled back. I was tempted to smack him in the face for that, but I did not. Clearly, he got the hint either way. _

"_Sorry," he mumbled. _

"_How did you find me?" I asked. I had not told them. And when I had said I was going to take a lunch break, he and McGee ignored me._

"_Abby and her stupid quirks," he said. "She came into the bullpen and asked where you were. I told her you were on your lunch break, so she sat at your desk and called you. Then, out of nowhere, she started to freak out – said she heard you scream or something like that. Thought something happened to you, cuz you weren't answering her. McGee traced your phone quickly since the call never ended. I recognized the address; we had to call Gibbs and tell him what happened. McGee found your phone in the backyard, near the window."_

_I was trying to concentrate on him so that I could keep my mind off the fact that my adrenaline was draining quickly and that I was in so much more pain than I thought. I tried not to let it show, but it was becoming hard. Granted, it was not an agonizing kind of pain, but it was still bad. Tony pulled me into his lap and gently laid my head on the crook of his arm. It was a little awkward, given the situation and everything that had happened, but I would have been lying my ass off if I said it wasn't kind of nice. _

"_My head hurts…" I groaned, showing off a little more vulnerability than I would have liked. _

"_Yeah, no kidding," Tony said. "It looks painful, too." _

_My hand went up to my forehead, but Tony pulled it away. "Don't touch," he said. _

"_It hurts." _

"_I know, Zee." There was that gentleness to his voice again – one I had not heard in a long time. "I know. Hey, have you ever seen Beetlejuice?"_

"_What?" _

"_You know, Beetlejuice – 1988 movie with Michael Keaton, Geena Davis, Alec Baldwin, Catherine O'Hara, Jeffrey Jones, and Winona Ryder? Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis are newlyweds who die in a car accident – which is actually a really, really stupid accident; Davis is driving and she swerves to avoid hitting a dog on the road, but ends up crashing into a covered bridge – so she and Baldwin die when their car falls into the river below. They return back home, only to find that they're ghosts, but get this – their home has been sold to these annoying new people! Oh, and did I mention that they found this book called–"_

"_Why are you telling me this?" I interrupted him. _

"_I thought maybe that could be our next movie for our movie night. We didn't get to have our last one. Haven't you ever seen Beetlejuice? Really funny movie; Lydia is like the really messed up version of Abby." _

"_Who is Lydia?" _

"_Winona Ryder's character. If you've never seen this movie, you have to. Everyone's seen Beetlejuice at least once. It's like the classic Disney movies. Everyone's seen 'em."_

_I had to appreciate that at least he was trying to help me keep my mind off the pain I was in, but it was driving me crazy. I shifted uncomfortably in his arms, trying not to make it seem like I was writhing. He let me move around a little bit before easing me back to the way I was a few moments ago. _

"_Easy, Ziva," he said quietly, comfortingly. "The medics are gonna be here soon." _

* * *

><p>"But still, I…" Abby trailed off. She did not look easily convinced, so she just changed the subject. "Well, do you want to stay at my house tonight? You can come with me and then tomorrow morning you go back home in your car."<p>

"Abby, that is a really nice offer, but I can…" I looked at her eyes, which were pleading with me. I knew there was no point in arguing with her. "You are not going to stop asking me until I say yes, aren't you?"

She nodded in affirmation.

"Alright," I said, giving up. It was late, I was tired, and I was longing a good night's sleep, if it came. If I had refused, I would have had no idea how to get back home by myself. I was thankful that at least Abby offered to let me stay at her place for the night. I did not think I would have wanted to spend it with anyone else.

"Thank God," McGee mumbled and trudged back off to his desk.

"I'm ready when you're ready," Abby told me.

"Okay," I said. "Just let me gather my things and we're gone."

* * *

><p>"<em>McGee! Where the hell are<em> _the damn medics?" Tony yelled impatiently. _

"_They're on their way!" he answered. "Should be here in a minute or two." _

"_That's still too long. Tell them to hurry up!" _

"_They're coming, Tony!" _

_I had to agree with him; I also thought the medics were taking forever. I could tell Tony was trying to think of something else to say – perhaps a movie to reference the situation to – but he had nothing. No sooner than that, Gibbs came out the front door of Carla's house, barking as usual. "DiNozzo! Talk to me!" He bent down next to us. _

"_Boss, she has a huge bump on her forehead – probably smacked her head against something really hard…." _

"_Ya think?" _

"_And, well, she's got other scratches on her face. I have no idea how she got those." _

"_Did you ask?" _

"_Well, not really…." _

"_Why not, DiNozzo?" _

"_I don't really think it's the right time, boss," he said. "Maybe we should let the medics take a look at her first and then ask…."_

_Gibbs made no further argument. He looked at me, as if he was studying me. "Ziver," he said as he took my hand, "if you can hear me, squeeze my hand." He was unusually calm, but all that told me was that I was really going to get it later. It was like the calm before the hurricane. Or storm. Whatever. I just knew I was in for it later. And if it did not come later, I would get it tomorrow. _

_I squeezed his hand and managed to get out a weak, "I am not in a coma, Gibbs. I can hear you." _

"_Enjoy it," he chuckled dryly. _

_Oh, I was so in for it now. _

_When the medics came, it became chaotic, and my mind instantly went to the third picture I had seen in the camera earlier that day. It was the same scenario. I had not seen myself in the picture because I was in the back of the medic van as the medics attended me. Gibbs, McGee, and Tony were off to another side talking. What they were saying was beyond me. The medics were also saying things that I did not capture. Everything seemed to be gibberish. They called Gibbs up and told him something, to which he continued to glance at me, but I was not listening. _

_In fact, the next thing I knew, I was in a hospital._

* * *

><p>Abby and I were making our way to her car. The parking lot was nearly empty; not many cars remained. We got in her car and she turned to me and asked, "Do you wanna stop at your house and get some things? You don't have to if you don't want to. I'm just asking."<p>

"No," I replied as I buckled myself in. "It is late. Let's just go."

"I know it's late, but I don't mind. Honest. If you want to gather some things, like your toothbrush, pajamas, and some overnight things, we can go."

I looked at her before saying, "No, it is okay. Really."

"Alright," she gave up. "If you insist, I guess. I think I have a pack of new toothbrushes, anyway. And I can lend you a pair of PJs so you don't have to sleep in what you're wearing."

"Thank you." I turned to the window.

She jammed her keys into the ignition and the car roared to life. After a few moments, I noticed we were not moving. I looked at her, only to find she was staring right at me with a lopsided grin.

"What?" I asked.

"You don't look so bad."

I returned the gaze with a crooked smile of my own and turned back to face the window. There was only one other person I could think of that would have told Abby that I looked like some kind of monster with a deformed face and scratches all over. Naturally, it would be Tony.

* * *

><p>"<em>Ziver, how do you feel?" <em>

"_Okay, Gibbs. Much better than before." _

"_Good. You don't have a concussion, but you were close to it," he said. "You have several scratches on your face, but nothing to be too concerned about." _

"_So I'll live?" I asked jokingly. _

"_Apparently. Medics coulda told us that. But they said you should go to the hospital just to be one-hundred percent sure that you're fine."_

"_Oh. Where are Tony and McGee?" _

"_I told them to go wait in the lobby." _

"_Why?" I wanted to know. _

"_So that I could talk to you privately before letting them come in." _

_If I could have been given the option to fast-forward that moment, I would have done so in a heartbeat. I had an idea of what Gibbs was going to say to me, but I could not be sure. One could never be sure with Gibbs. I did not get a single word out before he was on my ass again. "What the hell were you thinking, Ziva? Going over to Agent Emilia's house without letting anyone know? Why were you even there in the first place?" _

"_I am guessing she told you what happened." _

"_Oh, she told me her side of the story. She said you were a 'jealous, self-absorbed skank' and that that's why you spied on her. You realize, Ziva, that she could have killed you? And I don't doubt for one second that that woman would've hesitated to kill you if she had the chance."_

"_Do you want to hear my side of it?"_

_He answered gruffly, "That would be nice!" _

"_Gibbs, I did not have a good feeling about that woman the second she approached the squad room," I told him. "I always knew there was something off about her, but I could not put my finger on it. I just had this bad gut feeling about her. Well, I was out having lunch with Abby about two weeks ago, and I saw her with another guy. She was kissing him – and I knew it was not Tony. I talked to him about it, but he did not believe me. I just wanted to prove to him that I was telling him the truth and that I was not trying to ruin his 'relationship' for him or anything. I was looking out for him."_

"_Tell me what she did to you." _

_I sighed. "I took my lunch break when I saw that she was leaving NCIS. I followed her all the way up to her house. When I got there, I went to the back side of her house. The next thing I knew, my phone was ringing. Abby was calling me. Then I felt someone grab my hair from behind me and slam my head against the wall. Everything was a little fuzzy after that." _

"_So, what? You decide it's okay to go spying on her? Alone? Trespassing private property?" he snapped at me. _

"_Tony is my partner, Gibbs. I was just looking out for him. You would have done the same had it been any of us," I retorted. _

_He seemed to be a little surprised at my tone of voice, but instead, just gave me his infamous Gibbs-glare. At that moment, I did not think he would care about the bump on my forehead and thought he would head-slap me for talking to him the way I did. To my surprise, he merely gave me a half smile. He did not have to say anything. I knew he was proud to know that I had DiNozzo's back._

"_Next time, Ziver," he said quietly in my ear, "tell someone."_

* * *

><p>"You okay, Ziva?"<p>

Abby looked at me. I met her gaze.

"I am fine, Abby," I assured her. "I am just tired. Why?"

She gave a light shrug. "I dunno. You're just really quiet. You've barely said a word."

"I am just thinking."

She sighed. "I know you're tired, and I know it's been one hell of a day, but I was wondering… you wanna grab something to eat? It's only around eight-thirty."

"Only if you want."

"Well, I don't mind either way… do you?"

I shook my head. "Not really. I am very tired. I just want to go to sleep. Sorry, Abby."

"It's okay," she said. "Don't worry about it. There's always tomorrow."

* * *

><p><em>I insisted on going back to work. I decided I could not just go home and stay there, resting. I needed to go back to work and feel useful, although there were still tons of things running through my mind. I was in no excellent shape to work, but I still wanted to be there and keep my mind busy. I got stares from certain people, but I did not care. <em>

_Tony and McGee were being helpful, but I made it clear to them that I did not want to be babied. _

_When we got back to NCIS, we went to our desks. Gibbs was in Director Vance's office. It was not too long before the elevator dinged and Abby came scurrying out, nearly tripping over her platform boots. That may have been the part I was dreading most about the entire day. _

"_OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod!" she was yelling over and over. She stopped right in front of my desk. "Oh, my God!" She was stunned when she saw me. Well, stunned was an understatement – but she was clearly unhappy about the whole thing. She ran around my desk and wrapped her arms around me. "Oh, my God, I can't believe this happened to you!" _

_She was drawing attention to us, but she did not notice that. She also did not realize that she was nearly crushing me in her death hug. It took Tony and McGee to pry her off me. _

"_Ziva's fine, Abby," McGee assured her. "She's just a little banged up right now." _

"_A little!" Abby screeched. "A LITTLE? Are you serious right now, McGee? Look at her; she's not just a little banged up! I can't believe you don't__–__" She cut herself off with a gasp. "Oh, my God. I let this happen. Oh. My. God. I let this happen! OHMYGOD, ILETTHISHAPPEN! I can't believe I let this happen!" _

"_Abby!" the three of us yelled at the same time. She instantly became quiet and stared at us wide-eyed. _

"_It is not your fault, okay?" I said, hoping to sound somewhat comforting. _

"_Not my fault? But, Ziva, I was the one that called! If I hadn't called, none of this would've happened!" She was giving me this strange, sympathetic but guilty look. I just stared right back at her, not really sure what she was going to do next. _

"_Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" She pulled me into another hug. I really was not in the mood to hug anyone, so I did not hug her back. "I swear, I didn't do any of this on purpose! If I had known that you were going to be at Agent Emilia's house at the time I called, I wouldn't have called! I just… I'm sorry! I didn't mean for any of this to happen!" _

"_Abby, your hugs are going to kill her," Tony said. "Let her go." _

_She complied. I was surprised, to say the least, when she suddenly mumbled, "I-I have to go," and turned and left, disappearing right back into the elevator. _

_There was a short silence among the three of us after she left. _

"_Well, you should be Abby-free for at least a few hours now," McGee shrugged and headed back to his desk. _

_Tony went back to his desk and I sat down on my chair. The next few hours were slow and virtually painless, until McGee disappeared from the bullpen and came back later with Abby shielding herself behind him._

* * *

><p>We finally arrived at Abby's apartment. When we reached the inside, she told me to make myself at home. As she set her things down and took off her lab coat to hang it up in her room, I could not help but notice that there was something different about her apartment. I could not pin point it exactly. Something was just different.<p>

I started with the pictures. There were lots of pictures around. There were quite a few on the wall, but most of them were set on a corner in her kitchen counter. She had lots of pictures of the team, including Jenny and Mike Franks, but in many of them was a woman I did not recognize. Could that have been it? Maybe there were more pictures than I cared to remember.

I found myself quite intrigued at this woman that appeared so much in many other pictures. She had dark brown, shoulder-length hair with side swept bangs and hazel eyes. She had light skin, and in many pictures, a fair shade of pink blush on her cheeks.

I had no clue how long it had been that I was looking at those pictures, but I could not stop looking at one in particular of the unfamiliar woman, Tony, and Abby. They looked genuinely happy in the picture – whatever they had been doing.

"That's Kate," Abby suddenly said from behind me.

I turned around. "Kate Todd?"

"Yeah." Her lips formed a small smile. "That day," she began, nodding her head towards the picture I had been observing for a while, "we had been bothering McGee. We were in my lab. I can't remember what we were saying to pester him, but I remember that Tony started it."

"How surprising," I said.

"We were laughing so hard about it, that McGee decided to take a picture. He thought he would be able to take a really embarrassing picture of us laughing like idiots. Instead, Kate said, 'Smile!' when she saw him, and we all smiled for the camera. Very last minute thing. McGee was kind of pissed that he couldn't get an embarrassing photo of us, but he decided that the picture was nice. He told me to keep it."

"I have never seen it before."

"Well, I've had it for years. It wasn't until about two years ago, that I decided to get it on a nice frame and hang it up."

"It is a nice picture."

"Yeah," Abby sighed, and I could swear I heard a twinge of sadness in her voice. "Those were the good old days. I really miss Kate. When she died, I started putting up a lot of pictures of her and us and the team. I thought it would help me feel better if I helped keep her memory alive. I thought putting up pictures of her would be the best thing to do."

As I continued to look at the other pictures, I also noticed that the pictures of me and the team, or just me in general, were significantly less. It bothered me a little. From what I had heard from others before, Kate worked in the Secret Service and protected the president. Gibbs hired her after she had resigned. She instantly fit in the group, and none of them ever seemed to bear resentment towards her.

I, on the other hand, had come straight from Mossad. I was just a cold-blooded killer who did her job. Gibbs had been anything but pleased to have me on his team. I had come right after Kate had been killed, when everyone's wounds were not yet healed. I knew everyone disliked me – _especially_ Abby.

Was I living in Kate's shadow all this time? Was Kate supposed to be this ultra perfect agent, whom everyone loved? Where, then, did that leave me? I was probably never expected to live up to everyone's expectations – so did that mean that I finally reached where everyone was _not_ really expecting me to reach?

I was just a replacement. Nothing less, but certainly nothing more.

"I guess in a way, it helped me through that rough patch," Abby went on. "I mean, she died, and all that was left was you. I had to do something."

I said nothing. I did not know what to say in response to that.

"That… that didn't come out right," Abby said.

I still did not know what to say.

"God, I'm screwing up everything today," she sighed. "Ziva, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. I just… what I meant to say was that Kate died and you were the only other person there to continue doing what she did, you know?"

"You did not have another option. All you ever do is work, and you are constantly stuck in your lab, so you really had no other option but to deal with me. If you would have had another option, I would not be standing here right now, and this conversation would never ever have happened," I said curtly.

"No, Ziva, that's not true. I know you're thinking that you're Kate's replacement, but you're not. I thought so at first, but the more I got to know you, the more I realized that you've never been a replacement."

"She died; I took her place. How is that not replacing someone?"

"Because, Ziva, when Kate joined the team, she became part of the family. She left a mark, just like anyone who's ever joined NCIS has. And legends never die, right? I guess God decided to take her home with him and bring you to us. Yeah, she died, but her memory and legacy and mark still continue to live on; it always will. She's always with us even if it's been years since she died. And then you came along. You're an addition to the family, not a replacement." She hugged me for what felt like the billionth time that day. "I'm sorry if I've ever made you feel like you are a replacement."

_Well, yeah, but you have done worse than that, too, _I thought. But the moment was nice, so I decided not to ruin it.

"Come on," she said when she pulled away. "Let's go to my room. We can share my bed if you want. Or I can sleep on the floor, too."

"We can share the bed," I said. "I do not have cooties."

"Thank goodness," she joked with a smile. "I was worried about that." I followed her into her room, where she pulled out a pajama set from her dresser. She handed it to me.

"Thanks."

"No problem. Those are one of my favorite pairs. Tim loves those," she said. She turned serious. "Anyway, there's a reason I called you earlier today. I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. I was talking to Kyle and we've decided that we're gonna go to Florida to visit our parents. We're thinking of going on the first of February. The thing is… I don't really want to go alone."

"You have not asked McGee?"

"I thought of it, but… Tim is the worst when it comes to traveling. He's really a party-pooper most of the times. I'm not asking Gibbs for obvious reasons. And I haven't told Tony about my adoption, so that leaves you. Only if you want, you know? If you don't want to travel, it's okay, too. I could always ask Tim; I just don't really want to."

"Traveling to Florida would be nice," I said. "If you really want me to come, I will go with you."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I have not been to Florida in a while. And I have never been to West Palm Beach anyway. Sounds like a vacation to me. How long?"

"About a week," she said. "Kyle says that our parents are likely to want to take me around West Palm Beach. I guess it's their way of making it up to me for giving me up for adoption. I guess I'll find out why they gave me up for adoption when I get there." The moment she finished saying that, her phone began to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket and looked at the screen. "It's Tony."

_I wonder what he could want… _I thought to myself as I nodded at her.

She answered the phone. "Hey, Tony!" Pause. "Yeah… okay, give me a sec." She pulled the phone away from her ear. "Give me a moment. Tony wants to talk about something in private."

"Okay," I said, but the curiosity was beginning to eat at me inside. What could _Tony _possibly want to talk about with _Abby_ that he did not want me to know? Abby left the room, shutting the door behind her. I assumed she was in the living room or in the kitchen, so I went up to the door and opened it a crack, and in my exhaustion, listened in.

"Yeah, she's here…. In my room… Yeah, we're going to share a bed; so what? You're such a loser, Tony…. She's _fine_, Tony. You can go sleep in peace now…."

I stood by the door, listening in to as much as I could. It reminded me of a time when I was younger and my mother and father were out in the kitchen talking about me. They did not know that I was listening, and I cannot say that I particularly liked what I had heard. It was not that Abby was saying something I did not like, but knowing that she and Tony were talking about me – even if I had no idea what exactly they were saying about me – reminded me of those times in my childhood.

I remembered that I still had the camera with me and I went to look for it. When I turned it on, the previous pictures were gone, and there was only one new picture. There was a woman and a man, sitting next to each other, holding a baby. The pictures were blurred. I could not make out their faces, no matter how hard I tried; I did not even know where they were. One thing I noticed was that whoever the man was, he was tall. But seriously, not even Abby's 'babies' could un-blur that picture.

It _did_ make me wonder if there was anyone that was going to have a baby. My first thought went to Abby. She had been incredibly moody lately, and that time we went to lunch with her brother, she did eat a lot….

_Nah,_ I thought as I shut off the camera and stuffed it back into my pants' pocket, _she cannot be pregnant. Abby? Pregnant? She would know better than that. Right? _

I barely realized I had been standing by the door again when it swung open and Abby stopped with the phone still against her ear. I was a little startled, and so was she. "Oh," she said. I was not sure if I should have apologized or not. "Tony wants to talk to you."

I was not in the mood to talk to Tony, but I did not have the heart to so bluntly say no. Instead, I backed out in the only way that occurred to me at the moment. I pretended that I had to throw up, and so I rushed past Abby and to the bathroom. I could have gotten an Academy Award for the realistic retching sounds I was making.

Behind me, I heard Abby still on the phone. "Oh, crap! Tony, I'll call you back; Ziva's throwin' up!"

I heard her voice getting closer and closer until she was in the bathroom. She pushed my hair out of the way, but one good look at the toilet bowl, and she let it go and sat down beside me on the floor.

"Didn't want to talk to Tony?" she guessed.

I shook my head, my face still in the toilet bowl.

"You could have just said so," she said quietly. "I would have just told him you fell asleep or something."

I remained quiet, but I could tell Abby was choosing her next words carefully. She crawled closer to me and put a hand on my back. "I know it's been an overwhelmingly long day," she said, "not just for you, but for all of us. If you want to talk, I'm right here." She paused, and then continued. "If you want to scream or cry or throw or break things, then I'll let you."

In that instant, she looked so inviting. And I had no idea what drew me to it, but I found myself pulling away from the toilet and crawling into her embrace. Her arms went around me as I buried my face into her neck.

I did not know how many tears I shed or even how long we had been sitting there. I just let the tears flow until I lost track of everything around me.


	14. Tomorrow

Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter! I love you guys =3 Anyway, this chapter is pretty packed, so all I have to say is sit back and enjoy the show!

…..

:: Chapter 14 – Tomorrow ::

As it turned out, Carla decided to drop any charges she probably would have pressed against me. In all fairness, I never told Tony about her cheating on him _after_ I got caught spying on her. Even though that would have been an extremely weak excuse for her liking, she was too much of a coward to face the consequences of her actions. She avoided Tony at all costs and barely looked in his direction. He did not give her any attention either. They had both gone their separate ways, and I was glad about that.

It was still early when Abby and I got to work, but a little later than Abby's usual arriving time. Abby had helped me apply my make-up as best as she could. She did a good job at it, although the bump on my forehead was still clearly visible. The scratches on my face were not all that noticeable, and at first glance, one would not be able to see it clearly, if at all. That must have been why we got there a little later. McGee had already gotten there by the time we arrived and asked us why we got there late. Abby simply apologized.

I was wearing the clothes I had been wearing the day before. They were a little dirty, but it was better than wearing some of Abby's clothing. She offered to lend me one of her tight, skimpy outfits for the day, but I declined. There was no way in hell I was going to wear something of hers. If I had let her dress me up for the day, she would have completely transformed me and have me wear two pigtails on either side of my head. I had kindly declined and thanked her for her offer and insisted on wearing what I had worn the day before.

The bullpen was quiet and tranquil after Abby and McGee had left to her lab. There was only one woman at her desk, and she was quietly typing away. I saw her around quite a few times, but I did not know her name. Aside from her and myself, there was a janitor, wheeling the trash can before him around the squad room, picking up any visible trash. When he passed by my desk, he would not stop looking at me.

He purposely elongated his trash-hunt just to nonchalantly look at me. I got sick of it after a few minutes.

"_What _are you _looking_ at?" I snapped at him.

"Not much," he retorted and walked away whistling. He obviously did not know that I could kill him with the handkerchief sticking out of his uniform pants' pocket. But I was far too tired and drained to even dwell too much on it, so I rolled my eyes and turned back to face my desk and its contents.

Then I was faced with the choice of either catching up on paperwork or taking a bat nap. Instead, of course, I pulled out the camera from my bag and turned it on. There were no new pictures; just the one I had seen the day before. I shut it off and removed its memory card. Within a few seconds, I was able to get the picture on the computer, but it was still as blurry as it was before. There was absolutely no way for me to able to tell who those people were. I had a feeling it could have been Abby (her sudden moodiness just could not be a coincidence), even though the thought was somewhat painful to actually think of. But she _was _dating McGee, and only God knew what they had been doing in that coffin of hers…

I tried everything I could to take a better look at the picture. I was no McGee when it came to advanced zooming and all that, but I tried. I had no idea how long I had been looking over that picture, but soon I heard Tony's voice from somewhere behind me, and I quickly jumped in my chair and scrambled to make the picture disappear.

"Good morning! Whatcha doin', David?" he asked curiously.

I was having no luck in closing the picture in less than ten seconds, much less in trying to figure out why he had been there _so early_, so Tony was able to see the picture on my computer screen.

"Who're those?" he asked me.

"No one," I answered. Finally, I just pulled the memory card out of the computer and slipped it back into the camera.

"New picture?"

I looked at him as I put the camera away. "Yes."

"You know what it means?"

Oh, I had an idea of what it meant. I just did not know exactly _who_. "No," I lied.

"Need help? Maybe I can take a look at it."

I shot him a look. "What's with the questions?"

"What questions?"

"You keep asking me questions."

"I am?"

"You just did it!"

"Just thought I'd help," he said simply. I did not answer him, but I could not help but wonder why, after everything that had happened yesterday, he was being so nice now. Not that Tony was not ever nice, but it seemed kind of forced. It was as if it were a substitution for an apology. If that was the case, he was better off not talking to me at all, because I at least _apologized_ to him for what I had done.

Tony went over to his desk, set his things down, and took a seat. He started up his computer. "Hey, Ziva," he said after a few minutes of plain silence. I looked up at him. "Wanna play a zombie game with me?"

I furrowed my brows. "Excuse me?"

"Do you want to play a zombie game with me?"

"Play a zombie game? Why?" He had never before asked me to play a zombie game with him. Ever.

"Because it's fun. You've never played a zombie game before?"

"No."

"Never?"

"_No._"

"You're missing out."

"My life is already like a video game. I catch bad guys and kill them if necessary. Why would I want to play a video game where I kill zombies when I can get the whole thing in 3D on a daily basis?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, I hate to admit it, but you're right," he said. "Still doesn't make the fact that killing zombies is fun any less true."

I rolled my eyes at him. "No, thank you, Tony. I will pass on that one."

"Come on," he insisted. "Try it; it's fun. You'll like it. I promise."

"And if I do not like it?"

"Well, that's not gonna happen, but if you _don't_, for whatever reason, then lunch is on me."

I considered it for a moment. Free lunch was free lunch. "Okay," I agreed. I stood up and went over to his desk. He did not move from his chair after he put in the game's CD in the computer. I was not going to play standing up or hovering over him, so I said, "Aren't you going to stand up?"

"Why would I stand up?"

"You want me to play, don't you?"

"Yeah. What's your point?"

"I have to sit down," I said.

"Then sit."

I shrugged to myself, trying to hide the smirk that was threatening to take over my face. "Alright." I sat down on his knee. "You do not mind that I sit here, do you?" I said rhetorically, with a bit of a mocking tone. "Since you will not give up your seat," which I did not doubt he did on purpose, by the way, "then this is my only other option."

"I guess it is," he replied coolly.

"Good."

The game began to load on his computer after he clicked on the game icon in his desktop to start it up. The title then showed up in huge bold letters, reading: _PLANTS VS. ZOMBIES_.

"Plants versus Zombies?"

"It's awesome!" Tony semi-squealed.

"How do you play?" I asked.

"Patience, my ninja. I'll show you."

And he did, but the game was simple enough for me to catch on quickly. The entire point of the game was to keep zombies away from the player's house during a zombie-apocalypse using only plants. Ten minutes into the game, I was completely enthralled by it. I barely let Tony play himself. He only watched and every now and then, told me what to do in an anxious yell. My eyes were glued to the screen in front of me, but of the few things I was aware of, I knew McGee eventually entered the bullpen, sounding really confused. I had no idea what he had said.

We passed the first ten levels of the day stages in the game and came across the night stage. More zombies continued to come, including zombies that danced to _Thriller_. The game never became difficult, but I was in love with it. I could not stop playing it.

"You know, if you type 'mustache' into the keyboard, the zombies will have mustaches for the rest of the game," Tony said.

I did so. The zombies suddenly acquired mustaches, which was, in a way, disturbingly adorable. Abby would love that game if she had never heard about it before.

"Cool!" I said.

"I know."

We spent more time on the game, but after so many levels, I had lost complete track of time. I let Tony play a little bit, and he leaned forward to be able to see better. His chin was almost resting on my shoulder, and he slipped his arm around me to reach for the mouse. I had been sitting on him that whole time and wondered very briefly if his leg was numb or asleep yet; but if it was, he never complained or anything. Eventually, we made it to the fourth stage, first level, and there was fog involved. It was covering nearly half of the right side of the screen, making it a tougher level than the previous ones.

"I seriously hate this level," Tony grumbled.

"Stupid fog," I said.

"Don't you just hate that annoying fog?"

Tony quickly paused the game and both our heads whipped around to see Gibbs standing behind us with a cup of coffee in one hand and a file folder in the other. He was staring intently at the screen, as though he were truly interested in the game we were playing. His gaze shifted over to us. "What?"

"Uhh, boss…" Tony began nervously. "How long have you been standing there? We didn't hear you come in."

Gibbs looked at his watch. "About five minutes," he said.

"We'll never do it again, boss," Tony said.

"You won't?" Gibbs actually looked surprised to hear that.

"Uhh… no…"

"So, what? The game wasn't fun?"

"Oh, no, it was very fun," I put in.

He nodded. "It looks fun."

"Really?" Now Tony was the one to sound surprised.

"Sure," Gibbs shrugged casually. "I may be old, but I know fun when I see it. The game sure looks like it could keep you busy for hours. And you're killing zombies which is always fun." He smiled – a total rarity.

I stood up and noted that my butt hurt a little. "Tony could probably install the game on your computer if you want, Gi–" I was cut off when he whacked me in the back of the head with his file folder.

"'Not time for _fun_, Agent David," he said. "Go back to work."

I scrambled off to my desk, but I was able to catch Gibbs give Tony an even harder head slap with the file folder. "That's for showing the game to her," he said. Another smack to the back of the head, "And that's for letting her sit on your leg." The very leg he was now massaging because it was more than likely really numb.

McGee snorted from his desk, but his eyes stayed glued to his screen. Gibbs returned to his desk.

Tony looked at me. "So what did you think?" he asked.

"I think Abby would love that game if you showed it to her."

"And?" he prodded.

"And I guess I will not get any free lunch today," I finished.

He cracked a small smile. "Well, you'll still get free lunch for trying it. And dessert for liking it."

The free lunch was fine by me, and the game was fun and all, but mostly, it was just an excuse for me to be near him again.

* * *

><p>It was a slow Thursday the next day. I came to work at the same time I normally did, and only McGee was there when I arrived. But of course, he was not actually at his desk. I knew he was in Abby's lab. They never told me what they were doing in there, but I could have taken a wild guess. When I thought about it, I really did not want to know what they were doing.<p>

The day started off nicely. We did not catch a case at all during the entire course of the day, which I was glad about. Tony was being nice again. He did not offer me to kill zombies with him (we really did not want to get head-slapped again), but he did offer to get me lunch again and made an effort to strike a conversation between us. Unfortunately, when he did, we were still in the squad room, and Gibbs told Tony to shut up after a while. He had no other choice but to shut up.

Things got bad thereafter. Really bad. Because the day had been going so smoothly and we were case-free, Gibbs went out on a typical coffee run. Ducky, for some reason I did not know, joined him. Tony suddenly disappeared from the squad room. McGee remained glued to his screen; he did not notice when Abby suddenly came into bullpen. She was there to see me, and so she told him that we had some girl things we needed to discuss and if he could please go wait in her lab or somewhere away from us.

"Okay," he said and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Just try to be done before Gibbs gets back. I don't want him to kick my ass."

"Sure," she said. When she was sure he was gone, she turned to me.

"What's up?" I asked her.

"I thought I'd look up airline tickets with you," she said. "I haven't told Tim yet about our trip to Florida. I think I'll tell everyone like maybe two days before. I just don't want anyone to try and change our plans, you know?"

"Okay," I said. "American Airlines?"

"Yep."

We both turned to my computer as I went to American Airlines' website and checked for round-trip airline tickets. We were to leave on Wednesday, February first from Washington National Airport, arrive at Miami International Airport and come back the following Wednesday, the eighth. Abby said Kyle would be traveling a few days before us and that he would drive from West Palm Beach to Miami, which was a one hour drive, and pick us up at the airport.

Surprisingly, we agreed on taking a flight with no stops and one that was early in the morning. We settled on taking a flight that left DC at eight-thirty in the morning and arrived in Miami at eleven-twenty. The flight back would depart Miami at nine thirty-five in the morning and arrive in DC at noon.

"I'll buy them later on today, or maybe tomorrow," Abby said. "But I'll keep those in mind."

"Are you excited?" I asked her.

She hesitated for a moment. "Not really excited. I'm just … anxious, I guess. I want to meet my parents, you know? I want to know why they gave me up and why they kept Kyle. I wish my adoptive parents would have told me that they adopted me. I have so many questions and not enough people to give me answers."

That was when things went downhill.

From behind us, we could suddenly hear Agent Emilia make a really unnecessary comment out loud. "Why would _anyone_ want to keep a little demon baby?"

We quickly turned around and looked at her. She was working on something at her desk, and it looked like she had not entirely noticed that she spoke out loud.

"Excuse me?" Abby said sharply.

She turned around to face us. "What?"

"What you just said!"

"Oh, I'm sorry – did I say that out loud?" she said sarcastically. "I didn't mean to."

"Oh, I think you did." There was only a short wall separating the three of us, but Abby went around and nearly got in her face. I went after her, hoping that for her own sake, she did not do anything stupid that would get either one of us in trouble.

"What are you going to do? Hit me?" Carla sneered, never once standing up from her desk.

"What the hell is your problem? Didn't your mom ever teach you that if you have nothing nice to say, then you shouldn't say anything at all?"

"My mother's dead," Carla said. "And even if she wasn't, it's not like she would ever give me good advice anyway."

"Good," Abby snarled. "I'm glad your mom is dead."

I grabbed her hand and tried to get her to come with me and leave the witch alone. I thought that perhaps it would all be over now, but things only got worse. They had not drawn a crowd yet or stirred chaos, but when I got involved, of course, everything just got worse.

"Still, I'd rather have a dead mother buried six feet under somewhere, than to have one who's alive and who doesn't want me," Carla went on. We stopped walking and turned around. There was so much anger in Abby's face that it was actually scary. If she had not done so yet, Emilia was about to cross the line, and all I could think was that it was not going to be pretty.

"You think it's a coincidence that your biological parents live in Florida – thousands of miles away – while you're here in DC? You think it's a coincidence that they kept your brother and not you? Who would want to keep your pathetic, Devil-worshipping ass? Shouldn't you be on some animal-hunting ritual thing or something and burying dead animals in people's porches?"

The only reason Abby said nothing to her was because she was in tears. Carla did not just cross the line; she crossed the border of Mexico and ended up somewhere in Chile.

I stepped in. I was not going to let her get away with that. If she was angry and wanted to blow off some steam with me, she could have done so somewhere else – even if it meant kicking my ass again. But I was not about to stand around and let her hurt Abby where she was most vulnerable.

"Is that what you think she should be doing?" I retorted. "Hunting down animals and killing them and stuffing them in porches? Don't you think you would long be dead if that were the case?"

Finally, she rose from her chair. I stepped in front of Abby. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest. Unfortunately, I knew what she was capable of, and I had no idea what she wanted to do to either of us, in the bullpen, when other people were still around. But at the moment, I did not care. The urge to snap her little neck like a twig was quickly rising in me.

"And you would know what my front porch looks like, wouldn't you, Agent David?"

"I am sure that every man in DC knows what your front porch looks like, too, _slut._"

There was fury and venom burning in her eyes.

"Go kill yourself," she spat.

"That one really hurt," I shot back sarcastically.

"Yeah, I'm sure nothing gets through to your cold, Mossad, ruthless-killer heart, right? That is _if_ you even have one. Maybe you should ask your weird Goth friend to lend you the other half of her broken heart. Maybe then you'd be able to understand human emotions and feelings."

I stepped up to her. "You keep Abby out of this. If you are so angry at me, then just say what you want to say to my face."

Instead, she shoved me away. "And you – stay out of my face."

I gave her a hard shove back. "Touch me again and you'll lose that arm."

"Gee, I'd love to say that I'll break your face, but I kinda already did." She shrugged.

Abby's mistake was kicking Carla in the shin with her thick platform boots. Neither one of us expected her to be unfazed by it, even though we both knew it hurt, but we did not expect her to react so quickly. Her hand immediately went out and gave Abby a hard slap in the face. I even winced a little at it, but that was it for me. I had already had it with her. I pushed her hard enough to catch her by surprise and send her heavily tumbling down to the floor. She landed in between her desk and chair, hitting the chair on her way down, which made a loud thumping sound when it hit the wall behind her.

"You okay, Abby?" Her hand was over her cheek as she held it in. I removed her hand carefully from her cheek and sure enough, there was a red handprint on her face from the slap. It was all I was able to see before I collided, back first, with the desk right next to Carla's. She was quick, I gave her that, but that was not going to stop me from personally kicking her ass.

I felt things topple beneath me. I nearly knocked over the empty desk's computer, but thankfully, it did not fall. Other office items fell to the ground, but I was up again, tackling her down to the ground with a heavy punch to her jaw. I never noticed when other agents had begun to stop and stare. I was aware of a light pair of hands on my shoulders trying to pry me off the ground soon after, and a few moments after that, a strong pair of arms actually pulled me off.

When I looked, it had been Tony who yanked me off. He looked angry, but not at me.

Tony was followed by Director Vance, who looked like he could literally kill someone at that moment.

"What the hell is going on here?" he barked.

I could see Carla quickly become embarrassed when she saw Tony. It looked like I had finally been able to spot her weak area. She was a coward. I could tell she wanted to run away at that moment and not look at him.

"My office, the three of you," he said when neither one of us answered him. "Now!"

"But, Director, it's not our fault," Abby began to argue, only to be cut off.

"I said _NOW_, Ms. Sciuto!" He looked around at the audience that had gathered to watch our fight. "Everyone else back to work!"

With a scoff, Carla turned away and followed him to his office. Abby and I waited a little bit for her to be way ahead of us before we followed. Tony stayed back with us. "What the hell, Ziva?" he said quietly. "What was that all about?"

"She started it," I defended myself. "Abby and I were talking and she just came out of nowhere with a really rude and unnecessary comment."

"What'd she say?" he asked.

"Just something really rude!" Abby was clearly infuriated. "If I lose my job because of this, I'm just going to kill her. I swear, I'm gonna do it."

"You're not gonna lose your job, Abbs," Tony said. "Besides, if she started it, then you two should be fine."

We should have been fine. _Should_ have been. But the fact that Vance caught me on the floor, nearly ripping the hair off her scalp, and _on top of her _no less, was not good enough for me to defend myself. Knowing him, he was going to say that I could have walked away or ignored her or something very stupid like that.

Tony, Abby, and I went over made our way to Vance's office, where he and Carla were waiting. "Can I help you, Agent DiNozzo?" Vance asked him.

"I… uhh…" he began awkwardly, knowing Vance was going to begin asking him why he was there. "Not really. But Gibbs isn't here, so that makes me in charge until he gets back."

"Really? Then where the hell were you when two of your team members decided to start a catfight in the middle of the squad room with another agent?"

"I was in the break room, and then I went to the bathroom, sir," Tony said patiently. "So excuse me for not having supersonic hearing and not hearing when they began to fight."

"My patience is running very thin right now, Agent DiNozzo. So I suggest you stop being a smartass and leave my office right now if you have nothing relevant to add."

Abby and I were looking at him. For some reason, he wanted to stay, but knew that doing so would perhaps cause more trouble that either one of us wanted. He met my gaze for a few seconds before he turned to leave. His eyes told me that he would be waiting for us at his desk, wondering what was going to happen.

After he left, Vance demanded answers. Abby told the story as it happened, and, as I had suspected, Carla added small lies as she tried to hopelessly defend herself. Abby and I were lucky enough to be let off with a warning, while Carla was suspended for an entire week for initiating the fight with her stupid comment, which was effective immediately. She was to go home after we were dismissed. Vance did say, however, that he would tell Gibbs what happened and that Gibbs would have the final say. He probably figured that telling our boss and letting him decide our fate was just as bad as having a one week suspension.

When we left Vance's office, Carla was already way ahead of us. She quickly grabbed her stuff and left. McGee was back in the bullpen, and when he and Tony saw us come in, they both stood up and began to question us.

"What the hell happened?" McGee practically yelled. "I'm gone for a few minutes and the next thing I know, I'm getting a call from Tony that there's been a fight."

I told them what happened, and they seemed to finally notice Abby's red handprint on her face from the slap.

"Gibbs is going to have a heart attack," McGee said.

"Our fate is in his hands," Abby said with some solemnity. "I knew it would end like this eventually. We're screwed. We're losing our jobs for real this time, Ziva."

"You're not going to lose your jobs!" Tony insisted. "Gibbs will understand. He's an understanding man – you know, when he wants to be." There was an uncertainty in his voice.

We were definitely screwed.

* * *

><p>Gibbs was not pissed off, to our surprise. In fact, he chose to do nothing about the situation we had been in. He simply shrugged and said, "Agent Emilia started it, right? Then it's her fault." Abby and I were, quite needless to say, amazed at that. We were certain that he was going to freak out and yell and lecture us. He did not. He was as cool as a cucumber.<p>

Abby and I secretly high-fived each other when he was not looking.

My punishment, however, came later on. I did not see it coming, but Gibbs, apparently, had anticipated it. It was around eight-thirty at night, and we were at our desks, working on some files. When I shifted in my chair, a pain shot up my back. It took me by surprise, how much pain I was in, and I could not help the gasp that escaped my lips. Three pairs of eyes were instantly on me.

"What's wrong, Ziva?" McGee asked with concern.

"I…"

"Does your back hurt?" Gibbs asked.

"Uhh… yes."

He smirked. "Good."

The three of us looked at each other in confusion.

He continued. "There's a reason, Ziva, that I didn't punish you and Abby further. Agent Emilia may have started the fight with her comment, but you and Abby could have just ignored her. And you didn't."

"What is your point, Gibbs?" I snapped.

"I knew you'd start to feel the aftereffects of the fight later on," he said. "And it's going to hurt like hell, so I hope you have some Tylenol at home or something."

"That is my punishment?"

"Yep."

"So what is Abby's punishment then?"

"A sore cheek."

I sighed internally to myself. I knew I could never be safe from Gibbs's wrath. My back was not the only thing hurting, though; I was sore just about everywhere else. I could barely move without help, and that was when Tony came in to help me. I asked Gibbs if I could go home. I really just wanted to sleep. He simply smiled and said, "Yeah. You're gonna need it."

I only grabbed the things that I knew I was really going to need, like my phone and coat. I left everything else at my desk, figuring that I could just get it tomorrow. No one else made a comment about it, so I let it go. Tony accompanied me out the building and over to his car. I did not protest about him taking me to my house and possibly coming to pick me up the next day since my car would stay in the parking lot.

"You okay?" Tony asked me when we were settled in his car.

"Just fancy."

"Dandy."

I looked at him. "What?"

"The correct word is dandy, not fancy."

"Oh," I said, but I really did not care.

"Doesn't matter," he muttered as he turned the car on. "I'll just take you home now."

He drove me home, but we were in silence the entire time. I had to switch the radio on so that the silence would not seem so deafening, but Daniel Powter's "Bad Day" was really not helping. I had heard that song countless of times before, and every single time, I hated it even more. I simply shut the radio off and let the silence fall again between us.

We had finally gotten home, and Tony helped me inside. It struck me then that he had not been to my house since the day we discovered Abby was in the hospital. A quick sense of fear suddenly filled me as my mind drifted back to the last time we were alone together. I told myself that if anything were to happen, I would not be stupid and do something even stupider. Pain or no pain – it was no excuse to be… well, stupid.

I sat down on the couch with Tony's help and much difficulty. Just about every limb in my body was screaming at me in pain. I thanked him for taking me home and reminded him that I was going to need a ride to work tomorrow.

"You sure you want to come in to work tomorrow?" he asked.

"Gibbs did not tell me I could stay home tomorrow," I answered.

"Yeah, but he didn't tell you to come either," he said.

"I guess it is my choice then."

"I think you should wait to see how you feel in the morning."

"Good idea."

He turned and began to make his way into my kitchen. I tried not to turn my head so much, but asked, "What are you doing?"

"I know where your medicine cabinet is."

"You have a great memory," I said, but it was only to avoid and fill those few seconds of silence that threatened to take over. Still, it was inevitable.

Tony came back with a pill in his hand and a water bottle. I took the pill and swallowed it quickly. All that time, he had been looking at me. His eyes looked a little distant, but there was something that told me that he was not as completely disconnected from everything as he might have seemed.

"Are you okay, Tony?" I asked him.

"I've been better," he admitted.

"Me, too," I told him with a small smile.

"I guess we've both had better days," he said with a sigh. Then suddenly, he said, "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"What?"

"What do you mean what? Everything that's happened. It's been a tough two days with Carla and everything that's happened and all…"

"I will live," I assured him.

"I know. You're a tough ninja."

"And she has been suspended."

"I know."

I put my hand out for him to take. He took it in his and slipped his fingers through mine. I scooted over to him and lay my head down on his chest. My body was still protesting in pain, and even more so when he put his arms around me to pull me closer to him. But he was gentle, although I never let the pain show. The moment I let myself take in his scent, I began to feel myself get drowsy. I was tired. I wanted to sleep, but I wanted to do so right where I was.

"Ziva," he began, shattering the now-comfortable silence between us, "I…"

"Shh," I interrupted. "You do not have to say anything."

"I… I was wondering if you were up to a movie night tomorrow at my house."

"Are we going to watch Beetle-whatever?" I asked.

"Yeah. It's a good movie."

"What about _Beauty and the Beast_?"

"We can watch that one right after. We can pull an all-nighter." His voice sounded tired. I wondered if his eyelids were getting droopy, because mine sure were.

"Alright," I told him. I felt his hand go up to the back of my head as though he were holding me somewhat like a baby, protectively. "We can have a movie night tomorrow. Under two conditions."

"What's the first?" he wanted to know. He began to play with my hair in a way that I could swear he knew I adored.

"We play more _Plants versus Zombies_."

"Deal. What's the second?"

"You stay here tonight. With me. Right here."

There was a pause, but it was not one of hesitation. "Okay," he said. "I'll stay."

I nodded against him, almost ready to pass out for the night. I was momentarily jerked awake when he started to adjust himself onto a sleeping position on the couch. I cuddled right back into his arms, my ear pressed against his chest. The soft, calm, and steady beating of his heart was the last thing I heard before I fell into a restful slumber.


	15. Heartlines

Thanks to everyone who reviewed in the last chapter(: You guys seriously make my day! Anyway, beware, this chapter is LONG. I I hope you guys enjoy it anyway. I stuffed as much Tiva as I could in here (I'm on a Tiva overload right now :D), and there is still more to come. Enjoy and review!

…..

:: Chapter 15 - Heartlines ::

Tony and I had this 'what-the-hell-just-happened' look on our faces when we woke up the next morning. I was on him, and I was surprised that we had stayed in the same position all night long. For a moment, I felt a little confused, but I quickly remembered what had happened the night before. My body was soon groaning in pain once again, but I could not help but smile to myself. I wished it was like this every day – waking up with him by my side (or underneath me, in this case). I hated to have to wake him up from his sleep, but we had to go to work or Gibbs was going to kill us.

The movement woke Tony up. He gave me a look, silently asking me what was going on. I smiled at him with a cheery, "Good morning!" Maybe a little too cheery.

"Morning," he mumbled. "Well, I feel well-rested. How about you?"

"I guess," I answered. I sat up. I was still hurting. It was not as bad as the day before, but still bad. I knew I had to go to work anyway. Beside me, Tony swung his legs off the couch and yawned. "What time is it anyway?" I asked.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he looked at the time. "Holy crap, Ziva, we overslept! It's ten o' clock!"

"What?"

"We have to leave now!" He actually stood up from the couch and made an attempt to leave before I stopped him.

"Tony, hold on. We are already late as it is. And besides, you are wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday. You should change."

"I don't have any extra clothes with me, Ziva," he said. "And I drove us here last night. What do you want me to do? Go back to my house, get ready, and when I'm done, pick you up?"

"Well, that could work," I said. "Or we can shower here, and when we are done, you go to your place really quick and change. Then we go back to work."

"We?" Tony raised his eyebrows at me. "Showering? As in you and me? At the same time? Together?"

"Oh, please," I scoffed, but it was not like the thought had not crossed my mind already. "I meant we both shower here. You first, and then me. Or vice versa. It does not matter."

"Does it?"

"You want to go first?"

"You want to join me?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "We would never make it out in time."

He grinned. "So you _do_ want to join me. If you really want to, all you have to do is ask–"

"Tony, just go take a shower already," I interrupted. "We are wasting more time."

He threw my words right back at me. "Well, we're already late as it is," he said as he headed towards the bathroom. When he was inside after shutting the door, he shouted, "Hey, Ziva, I need a towel! Could you bring me one please?"

I went to find a towel for him and one for myself. He took about ten minutes in the shower, but just a few minutes before he was done, I went inside the bathroom and hung the towel up on the towel rack. Tony opened the curtain a little and peeked at me. "You still want to join me?"

"Gibbs would kill us, Tony."

"Alright, then Gibbs can join us, too. The man could use a little action in his life."

I rolled my eyes. "Just hurry up in there!" But I did not leave the bathroom until after I was done in the shower myself. When he finished showering about a minute and a half later – neither one of us speaking another word during that time – he put his hand out and grabbed the towel off the rack. He came back out with the towel around his waist, and I tried to discreetly admire as much of him as I could. I told myself that I had to take my eyes off him, _like now_, but another part of me said that a few more seconds wouldn't hurt…

"See something you like, Zee-vah?"

He was smirking at me in a way that made my heart skip one beat too many. I knew I had to do something to move, but I was rooted to my spot on the floor.

"You better get a move on things. Or Gibbs is really going to kill us," he said tauntingly. It was like a sweet torture at the very wrong time. "And don't worry. You can undress yourself here if you want. I won't mind." There went that smirk again.

He removed the towel from his waist and began to dry himself off as though I had not been in the bathroom with him at all. His face was pretty neutral, except for the little smirk on his face that did not seem to be leaving any time soon. He knew what he was doing to me, and I could not let myself give in. I quickly got in the bathtub, closed the curtain, removed my clothes, and dumped them on the floor. It was for my own good.

I could hear Tony softly chuckling to himself. He was definitely doing that on purpose.

It was almost eleven in the morning by the time we left my house. I took my keys, cell phone, coat, and a bottle of Tylenol with me, knowing that I was going to need it later. Gibbs had not called us at all during that entire morning, and that worried me. Either he and everyone else in the NCIS building was dead, or he was extremely pissed off and decided not to call us to keep us in suspense. One way or the other, I knew Tony and I were going to be in trouble for oversleeping and getting to work late.

Tony drove as fast as he could over to his house, went in and changed clothes quickly, and came right back out. Maybe now the suspicion would lessen if everyone saw that Tony came in to work late, but with different clothes than those of the day before.

Yeah. Right.

We finally arrived at the parking lot where Tony parked right next to my car. He turned off the engine, but neither one of us moved. We sat there in silence for a few seconds, until he decided to break it.

"If we go in together, Gibbs will be suspicious."

"He will be suspicious anyway that we both left together last night and came in late at the same time."

"I know, but one of us should go in first. The other one should go in like twenty minutes later."

"You go in first."

"Why me?" he asked.

"Because I am supposed to be the injured one here."

"So?"

"So it should take me longer to do things, including getting here."

"Good point. What're you gonna do? Sit in your car and wait? There's always a chance that Gibbs will find you. You know he likes to go on his coffee runs at random times."

"I'll drive around and be back in about twenty minutes or half an hour."

Tony looked hesitant. "Where will you go?"

"I do not know, Tony. Anywhere I can think of. Maybe nowhere at all." I shrugged, but I already had an idea of where to go.

"Well, what if Gibbs asks me where I was and stuff?"

I glared at him. "Are you really asking me that? Make something up, Tony! You should be able to come up with something on the spot. I know you can. If you come up with some really extreme lie or something like that, tell me in a text or something."

We both exited the car and ended up running into each other when I was making my way to my car and he was beginning to make his way out of the parking lot. We were extremely close, to the point where I could feel his body heat on me. For a moment, we both just got lost in each other's eyes, but the gaze was soon cut off when, out of nowhere, I pulled him towards me by his tie and our lips met. He wasted no time in returning the kiss as his hands went up to either side of my neck.

When I pulled away, I said, "Only you and I know what really went on between us last night."

"Nothing," he said. "We just slept together. Okay, that sounds really wrong if I say it like that. We fell asleep together. There. That's it."

"I know that. So if Gibbs asks, just tell him you were really tired from helping me around the house last night and that you overslept. If he thinks more went on, tell him you fell asleep at my house. You do not need to tell him that we slept on the couch together. Just make sure to mention that we were both extremely tired – oh, and that we both forgot to set the alarm clock on our phones." Which was true.

I made my way to my car and unlocked it. Before I got in, I noticed that Tony was still glued to his spot on the floor. He must have been in a daze from our kiss. He turned around to face me. "Ziva, I…"

"That was for teasing me – in my own _bathroom_," I said to him. And well, because his lips looked so deliciously tempting that I could not help but give in to my desires. But getting him back for teasing me the way he had was another good reason. I got in my car and sped off.

There was a jewelry shop half a mile away from where I lived. It was not a huge jewelry shop, but good enough to satisfy. After I had lost my first Star of David pendant and had come back from Africa, I went to that same jewelry store to buy a new one. But now I was pendant-less again and hoping that the store had more. I thought about buying more than one, just to be on the safe side, but things did not exactly turn out the way I would have liked.

The store was empty, save for the man behind the glass counter that worked there. I thought I had seen him before, but I was not completely sure. I approached him and asked him if there were any more Star of David pendants left.

"Sorry, lady, you're out of luck. We had one left, and someone else bought it earlier this week," he said.

"Do you know what day?" I asked.

"Wednesday, if I'm not mistaken. Yeah. Wednesday."

"You sold it?"

"Yep."

"Do you know who bought it?"

"Do I look like I know every single person who buys jewelry here?" he snapped at me. "Do you even know how many people come here on a daily basis and buy things?"

"I have been here once or twice before."

"Good. Then you know how many people come here."

"Do you know if it was a man or a woman?" I prodded.

"It was a man. He was white and tall. That's about all I remember. Oh, and he was wearing a suit. Yep," he said.

"How long before more pendants come in?"

"That stuff usually takes about three weeks to get here. If we're lucky, you know."

I sighed, feeling defeated. In three weeks, I was going to be in Florida, accompanying Abby on her quest to meet her biological parents and enjoying the warm weather while I was at it. "Thanks anyway," I mumbled and left.

When I left, I realized that half an hour had not yet passed. It had only been about ten minutes or so. I had no idea why I was thinking about the camera and of checking it, but I was. It was stuffed into my coat's pocket. I went back into my car and checked it. Two new pictures had come up, but the one of the couple and the baby still remained.

Of the new pictures, there was one with a bandaged wrist, but I had no idea whose arm it could have been. The next one was of a bruised shoulder, and again, I could not tell whose shoulder it was. I had a feeling, though, that it would be someone from our team. I could not be sure, since the camera liked to take me by surprise. I would not know until it happened.

I shut the camera off and set it down on the passenger seat. I sighed, and when I relaxed as much as I could, every one of my muscles began to protest. I knew I was going to need that Tylenol very soon now. I pulled out of the parking lot of the jewelry store and slowly drove back to NCIS. I took the long way there just to kill time and take it easy on myself. When I got there, the parking spot next to Tony's car was available, so I took it.

It had then been about twenty-five minutes since I had left Tony. I thought I would probably wait a little more in my car, but I was becoming restless, and I knew for sure that Gibbs was already going to _murder me_ – and that was just his way of being _nice_. But I made my decision, turned the car off, and went inside the building.

I reached the squad room, only to find that Tony and McGee were there, and my bags were still at my desk as I had left them the day before. Gibbs, however, was nowhere to be found. That was not necessarily a good thing.

McGee looked up at me. "Good morning, Ziva," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine…" I responded uncertainly. "Where is Gibbs?"

"He wasn't here when I got here," Tony said.

"I thought he might have gone to the break room," McGee offered helpfully. "He didn't say. But it's been about half an hour that he's been gone. So I don't know."

"Think he could be in Abby's lab?" Tony wondered.

"Maybe."

I painstakingly sat down on my chair, earning myself another round of screaming muscles. I started up my computer, which had been shut down by someone, although I had no way of telling who or even when. I took out the bottle of Tylenol I had brought up with me and took one pill with water. Thankfully, I had a water bottle in my bag. I would never know when it came in handy; and besides, coffee did not always seem to do the trick. For Gibbs, maybe, but not for me.

"Still in pain?" McGee guessed.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, you just took a Tylenol."

I took the small bottle and dumped it somewhere in my bag.

"And you have pain written all over your face," he finished.

"I do not," I retorted.

"Yeah, you do."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"McGee?" I looked up at him.

"Shut up or you'll kill me?"

"You know me too well."

"Shutting up now."

Tony looked amused. "You gonna let her manipulate you like that, McWeakling?"

McGee turned to look at him. "She sleeps with a gun and enjoys throwing knives for fun, Tony," he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "So, _yes_. I will!"

"Kate slept with a gun," Tony pointed out stoically.

There went the mention of a past agent again. I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"Yeah, but Kate was… _Kate_."

"What does that even mean?"

"Kate was constantly making threats, but she would never hurt a fly."

"Yeah, except for me!"

"Yeah, but Tony," he laughed, "everyone else was like a mosquito to her. You were like a house fly."

"Hey!"

"I hate insects," I said.

"Me, too," Tony said. "I hate lizards, too."

McGee frowned. "Lizards are cute."

"They are not cute," I said. "They are evil and disgusting. When I lived in Israel, they would get into my house all the time. My mother hated them. My sister and brother loved to catch them and they loved to try and throw them into my shirt. My sister got into trouble with my mother one time for trying to do that to me."

"Gross. Ever had snakes get into your house?" Tony asked.

"Yes," I said. "I hate snakes, too. I killed them with knives when hitting them with a broom did not work."

Tony and McGee stared at me wide-eyed.

"You see, Tony, that's why I let her manipulate me," McGee said and then went back to his computer.

There was still no sign of Gibbs around. I looked at Tony and asked him if I could speak to him privately. He said okay. We both went off to the break room, but after deciding that we were practically in plain sight there, I suggested we go into the men's bathroom. When he asked me why the men's bathroom instead of the women's bathroom, I told him that if Gibbs suddenly started looking for us, he would go to the women's bathroom first. We spent more time there than the men's bathroom.

"I have to show you something," I told him. From my coat, I pulled out the yellow camera and turned it on.

"New picture?"

"Would I show you if not?"

"Point taken. Anyone dead?"

"No," I said. "I sure hope not." _Unless it's Carla._

I showed him the two new pictures of the bandaged wrist and bruised shoulder. He told me he did not recognize the wrist or shoulder. "Maybe it's one of us," he said.

"Like we need that," I scoffed.

"You never know."

"Yeah. I don't."

"We should go back," he said.

We turned to leave, but the moment we stepped out of the bathroom, Gibbs was there. There was no usual smirk or lopsided grin on his face. He was serious, maybe even a little pissed off. Tony and I were staring at him, thinking, _This is it, we're going to die for real now_, but neither one of us made a sound. And he just glared right back at us, making DiNozzo squirm and enjoying every second of it.

"Hey, boss," Tony finally said, trying to make things less awkward, "how's it goin'?"

"Where have you two been?" He looked at his watch. "It's almost noon."

"Sorry, boss, we overslept…"

He raised an eyebrow. "_'We'_, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, I… I took Ziva home last night, and… we were so tired that we fell asleep at her house, and… neither one of us put an alarm on our phone, so we woke up really late."

"You fell asleep at her house?" Gibbs was unusually calm. I really had no idea what to expect next.

"Yeah, boss. We fell asleep. That's it."

"Nothing else happened, Gibbs," I added. "We swear." Tony nodded in agreement.

Gibbs gave us another long glare before he asked, "Who took the couch?"

"I did," we both said simultaneously.

He gave us a knowing smirk.

Like I had said to Tony earlier, only we knew what did or did not go on between us the night before. Gibbs had to have known that nothing truly went on – besides the fact that we slept in each other's arms. He was _Gibbs_; he knew all. But we had just given ourselves away. To think that we had tried to keep the fact that we slept _in each other's arms_ a _freakin' secret _that had just been shot to hell by one simple question was embarrassing at its worst.

I thought I heard Tony groan.

"Dead lieutenant," was all Gibbs said. "Grab your gear."

* * *

><p>Catching a case saved us from Gibbs's wrath a little. It distracted him enough so that he did not have time to dwell and yell at us for having been late to work. We worked around the crime scene, pointing out the obvious before Ducky arrived with Palmer. Lieutenant Jerry Hardy was stabbed in the stomach a few times and had bruises on his chest and arms. He was killed in his home, but there were no signs of a struggle.<p>

Tony was bagging and tagging and collecting evidence. I took pictures. McGee was taking statements from the neighbors who said they heard something.

When we finished processing the crime scene, we were able to get back to NCIS to take the evidence to Abby. But soon we were out the building again, after we learned that Lieutenant Hardy had a brother and a sister who hated his guts and sent him videos threatening to kill him.

Tony, McGee, Gibbs, and I were back on the road. Gibbs said he would drive, leaving no room for anyone to oppose or argue. Tony took the front seat, and McGee and I were stuck in the back. We got to Lieutenant Hardy's sister's house first. Thankfully, she and her brother lived pretty close by, so we would not have to make so many trips until we got back to NCIS.

We reached the front door, and McGee knocked. There was no answer. He tried again, but a few moments later, there was a loud crashing sound coming from inside the house. Gibbs instructed me and Tony to go towards the back of the house and check for any suspicious activity, while he and McGee took the front.

Tony and I carefully made our way to the back of the house with our guns at the ready. I was starting to feel pumped. I guessed it was just that adrenaline rush, knowing that we potentially had to be chasing down a suspect. But part of it could have been that the last time I snuck into someone's backyard, the results were anything but great, and I really did not want to go through something like that again.

Chasing down a suspect was exactly what we ended up doing.

In the midst of all that mess, even I was amazed at the way I had momentarily forgotten about the pain that had been a little less ruthlessly ripping through my body from the day before. All I knew was that as we checked out the backyard, a figure suddenly bolted at high speed from the backdoor, and I was on his tail.

Tony was right behind me.

The man we were chasing, whose face was made nearly impossible to glance at, turned and began to run along the sidewalk of the neighborhood. I felt like I had been running for hours. He was a fast runner, and I had to give him credit for that. But as I ran, with Tony closely behind me, a car, parked right beside the sidewalk, suddenly opened its passenger door, and I ran right into it. I came tumbling face-down to the ground with a stinging pain in my shoulder. Luckily for him, I broke Tony's fall as he fell right onto me. Neither one of us was expecting the sudden blow, just as we were not expecting to hear two gunshots fired in our direction right after we fell either.

Tony was the first one of us to make a sound. He groaned. He seemed fine to me, and more so when I felt him begin to stir beside me.

"That was a freakin' close one," I heard him say. "That bullet just grazed my wrist!" I heard him get closer to me. "Ziva?"

He turned me over as carefully as he could – which was not careful enough – and I was thankful for that, because, being face down on the ground after a blow like that, I could literally not move a muscle. I thought it was probably the immediate shock of the blow and that my brain was delayed in trying to take everything in.

He, however, turned me over, pulling me by my bad shoulder. It was like a reality check. I seemed to be feeling everything ten times worse than it really was. When he grabbed my shoulder like that, it _hurt like hell_.

Initially, I tried to speak, but all that came out was a strangled gasp.

"Ziva, you okay?" he asked me with evident concern.

"My shoulder," I managed to say.

"You hit your shoulder?"

"Your hand is on it… _Get it off._"

Realization dawned on him. "Oh! Sorry. Does it hurt really bad?"

The only thing stopping me from hitting him for asking such a stupid question was the fact that I felt I could not willingly move my arm. I knew I could move it, just not at that moment. I was not sure if I even wanted to move it. "Yes."

"That just came out of nowhere," he said. "Next thing I know, we're both falling to the ground 'cause a car door just came out of nowhere."

"Your wrist," I went on. He held it up for me to see. It was bleeding.

"Bullet grazed it," he explained. "I guess now we know whose shoulder and wrist it was on those pictures."

"Now do you believe me?"

"Always did, Zee."

With my good arm, I searched for his hand and deliberately took his left arm, which already had some blood on the palm of his hand. I gave it a small squeeze, and he returned it. I could feel the smooth liquid smear against the palm of my own hand, but I did not care. Once again, the adrenaline that had not so long ago invaded my body was wearing off, and my shoulder was pounding in pain now, becoming stronger with every throb.

"Where the hell is McGee?" I asked.

Just in time, McGee was running over to us, asking us what had happened and if we were okay. Tony gave him a short explanation.

"We caught the guys," McGee said.

"Guys?" Tony asked.

"Three of them. Neither one of them is Lieutenant Hardy's brother. So obviously, there was no sister in the house."

"I don't get it. Who were those guys then?"

"I don't really know, Tony. They're not related to Lieutenant Hardy, that's for sure. But there were three of them. One inside the house, one inside the car, and the one that ran out of the house with a gun." He noticed Tony's wrist. "Oh, no. He shot at you, didn't he?"

"Relax, McGee. The bullet grazed my wrist." His face momentarily twisted into that of pain. "I'm gonna need Ducky to take a look at it."

"He will. Ziva?"

"What?" I asked.

"What happened to you?"

"She hit her shoulder with the car door," Tony answered.

"Which shoulder?"

"Right one," I said.

He carefully pulled the collar of my shirt down past my shoulder to take a look at it, moving the strap of my bra to the side with his thumb. It hurt, but I had to appreciate that he was being careful at it. "Yep, it's definitely bruised," he said.

"These things only happen to us, don't they?" Tony remarked sarcastically with a sigh.

* * *

><p>We were down in autopsy as Ducky checked us out. Gibbs and McGee probably would have stayed, but they were interrogating the guys they had brought in. Besides Palmer, Abby was also there, bouncing around anxiously, waiting for Ducky to speak. Her cheek was, as she had put it, sore to the touch, and a little swollen. But, she had said, it was nothing compared to what Tony and I had gone through that day.<p>

"So, Ducky," she said impatiently, as she took a sip of her Mini-Pow. She hated the Mini-Pows, but it was times like these were she felt way too anxious to attempt to drink from the regular-sized Caf-Pows she normally drank from, "what's the verdict?"

He told us that we would live. Tony's wrist was bandaged, and he was to try to not put too much strain on it. I was to ice my shoulder and take painkillers for it. I was not really surprised to hear all that, but Abby seemed to be. She was overdramatic about it. She nearly squeezed the life out of Ducky to say thanks, threw away her Mini-Pow, and did what we thought was _supposed_ to be a happy dance. I wondered if she was expecting Ducky to say that we were somehow being slowly eaten by a terrible cancer or something.

Apparently, Jerry Hardy's brother and sister, Jack and Jenna Hardy, killed him. It could not be more obvious. The reason was still to be discovered, but they knew NCIS would be looking for them, and in order to distract us, they had some of their friends try to throw us off. They did not get away with it when Gibbs stopped them with his car. If anything else was said after that, I had no idea what it was.

We were able to return to our investigation, but things were not easy for me and Tony after that. Gibbs punished us for being late earlier and took away our chairs. Just when we perhaps needed our chairs the most, he took them away from us. We tried to protest, but he pointed out that we had been through worse things in our lives and that having our chairs taken away from us was nothing compared to those other times. He was right, of course, but that did not take away from the fact that we still needed our chairs.

Still, he had spoken, and we had to comply. Tony and I were on our knees until late that night. Gibbs had some compassion left in him and let us leave at eight, even though the investigation was far from over. By the time we had left, my knees were killing me. My entire body ached, and I wondered just how I was going to make it through the weekend. The only thing Tony had to worry about was his wrist – his _left_ wrist, and it was not even his dominant hand.

Lucky bastard.

"Movie night tomorrow then, Ziva?" Tony asked as we stepped into the elevator. Oddly enough, we had left at the same time.

Normally, I would have agreed. After a long and tough day (both physically and mentally), I wanted nothing more than to go home and go to sleep. But for some reason, I really wanted his company. So, despite my body's protests to leave Tony and movie night for another day, I said, "No. Tonight."

"Tonight? You sure?"

"Yes. Tonight."

"'Cause you know, _Beetlejuice_ is an awesome movie, but Michael Keaton _can_ get a little obnoxious after a while…"

"Yes, Tony, I want to have movie night tonight. With you."

"With me…"

"Yes, with you. Unless you invited someone else and did not tell me about it," I said.

"What? No, no. I was just thinking out loud, I guess."

"I will take my car and follow you."

"You sure you can drive?"

I wanted to say that if I survived Somalia, then I could definitely drive to his house with a bruised shoulder. "I am not crippled, Tony. I can drive."

"Fast?"

"Maybe not as fast as I would like, but I can still drive."

"Good," he smirked, "then there's a chance that you'll actually get to my place in one piece."

It took us about half an hour to get to his house. I felt like I was driving as slow as a turtle, but Tony swore I was actually driving at the speed limit for once. Once inside, I took off my coat and set it down on the couch. Tony asked me if I minded that he changed into something more comfortable. I could have cared less if he wanted to watch the movie naked, but I told him I did not mind. I imagined him to come completely laid back, with pajamas and the like, but instead, he came with shorts and a polo shirt.

He said, "Well, you don't have a pair of pajamas with you, so I thought it would be kind of awkward if I came with mine and you didn't have any."

I had to smile at that.

"Besides, you look pretty comfortable right now, so I thought I'd get a little comfortable, too. Want popcorn?"

Truthfully, I was not sure if my stomach would be able to mhold anything down, even if it was something as small as popcorn. I had not eaten anything throughout the entire day, but I did not feel hungry. I said I did not mind the popcorn, but I didn't want any.

As he made the popcorn, I took out a bowl from the cupboard and set it down on the counter. I told him I would start the movie, already knowing where his stack of movies was.

I found the movie, and, by the cover picture, it looked anything but interesting. Obnoxious? It seemed likely. I put the movie in the DVD player anyway and sat down on the couch, waiting for Tony to join me. He did a few minutes later, sitting down beside me with the bowl of popcorn. "Popcorn?" He held out the bowl.

I took one and ate it. He gave me a funny look.

"You're supposed to grab a handful, Ziva," he said. "That's why I made a lot. Come on."

I took a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into my mouth, although I really did not want to.

"You look more and more like a true American every day," he said jokingly.

The movie began and for the next two minutes, all I saw was the opening credits. I was not a movie buff like Tony (then again, no one was), but, of all the movies I had watched before, I did not exactly remember having to sit through what felt like five minutes of opening credits for a movie to start. Either way, since this was the time where Tony remained silent – because there was nothing for him _to_ say, until the movie started – I carefully snuggled up beside him.

He held the popcorn bowl steady with one hand, and his other hand went around me as I laid my head down on his shoulder. We were quiet throughout that entire time, but the contact said more than words could. When the opening credits ended and the movie actually started, he would not shut up, basically.

He talked so much that I could barely hear what anyone was saying. He kept saying how a certain scene, or gesture, or line, or _whatever_ reminded him of something in his life or something that had happened to either him or someone he knew. There was, I noticed, a different kind of feel to when he spoke. It was not just Tony being Tony; it was like there was more hidden underneath the surface – as though he had something on his mind and was trying to hide it by talking non-stop.

Eventually, he could not keep it up any longer and crumbled.

Seven minutes into the movie, and Alec Baldwin and Geena Davis finally died. I was not amused at it (as Tony had said: a really, really stupid accident, indeed), but Tony seemed to be more affected at it than I was. And I was pretty sure he had seen _Beetlejuice_ at least a billion times before.

"They died," he pointed out flatly.

"I can see that," I answered.

"They died – a horrible, tragic death. They drowned in the river."

"Tony, I _know_. I am watching the movie, too."

"Nobody'd ever know they were missing or that something happened to them."

Finally, I shifted in my position and turned to look at him. His eyes resembled a sort of a glassy appearance. He was staring at the screen before us wide-eyed, as though he were in a trance, but his eyes were distant, and, if I was not mistaken, a bit watery. My stomach did a flip flop and my heart skipped another beat. This was not like him. He was acting incredibly strange since we had started watching the movie, and it was starting to scare me. I knew I had to get to the bottom of whatever was causing him to act like that.

"Tony," I said lowly, carefully. I had no idea why I was being so careful when speaking to him. Maybe I was afraid I would break something that needed repair instead of further damage. "What's wrong?"

He would not look at me. He barely even blinked. If I had not been scared before, I really was now. My heart began to race insanely in my chest. I had absolutely no idea what was wrong with him, and I felt absolutely powerless to stop it.

I put my hand lightly on his cheek but did not rush things. "Hey, Tony," I said lowly again, as though I was speaking to a very timid child, "look at me. Please."

He did not look at me, but at least he spoke. His voice was shaky, and I could see that he was trying so hard to keep himself together. "You could have died," he said.

"What?"

"You," he said again. "You could have died. You almost died."

"We have risky jobs, Tony," I said. "We put our lives at stake every day doing what we do."

He shook his head. Through his tough façade, he let a tear slip out of his eye. I had seen the best and worst of this man, but I had never seen him cry. He let his guard down that moment, and he did not seem to mind it. He did not even seem to mind that I was actually watching him let his guard down. I felt somewhat honored that he, for a guy who said that DiNozzo men did not cry, emphasizing the 'did not' part a thousand times over, was letting me be a part of it. He was letting me inside slowly, one step at a time. The tear that rolled down his cheek did not make it far when I used my thumb to wipe it away.

"That's not what I meant," he went on, pausing a little to choose his words carefully. I patiently waited for him, trying to give him the encouragement he needed through my body language. "This week…" he continued. "If Abby hadn't called you… Carla could have killed you. She _would_ have killed you."

"But she did not, thanks to Abby."

"But if she hadn't called, Carla would have killed you."

His voice sounded so pained, and my heart was breaking at how much he hurt. He continued to try and hold himself together, but the tears were inevitable. There were soon tear tracks on his face. He brought his hand up to his face and placed it over mine, which was still on his cheek.

"I don't want to lose you, Zee."

"You won't," I promised him. "I am here."

He grasped my hand and brought it down to his lips. He kissed my fingertips lightly, eliciting a small shudder from me, before pressing his forehead against mine. Our fingers intertwined, and as they did, his lips met mine in a soft, gentle kiss, which I returned. I could taste the salty tears that lingered on his lips, but I could not will myself to pull away even if I wanted to.

We only did when we came back for air, but even then we did not entirely pull away. His forehead was still leaning against mine, our fingers were still together, and the tips of our noses were touching. Our movie night had been shot to hell, but if this was wrong, I had no business wanting to be right.

"Tony, I…" I paused for a moment, but he waited for me. It was never easy for me to say exactly what I wanted to say, but we had both let our guards down that night. We were both extremely vulnerable, our hearts on the line. I thought I could do it, so I did. "I love you." I immediately felt a huge wave of emotion hit me, as though everything I had been trying to hold back before was trying to break through now.

"I love you, too, Ziva," he said. "Sweetcheeks. I love you." He cradled me in his arms, rocking me back and forth as he did.

The popcorn bowl tipped over, but we paid no mind to it. It stayed like that until the next morning. We spent the rest of the night holding each other and crying together, until we fell asleep in each other's embrace, losing track of everything and anything around us.


	16. It's Just You and Me

This chapter is relatively short compared to my other ones, so I'm sorry about that. It's a bit of a filler chapter, but also a bit of a 'warm-up' for the next chapter. I hope you guys like anyway, so enjoy and review.

…..

:: Chapter 16 – It's Just You and Me ::

We saw a picture of ourselves kissing, and, needless to say, we blushed at it. It was one thing to do it in the heat of the moment, but it was another thing to see it coming and not know where or when it could come. The most we knew was that it was in a public place and that it seemed to be indoors. It was not NCIS – that much we figured, but we could not make out the background in the picture.

I supposed that it did not matter since we did not speak about it after that.

Tony and I had been in an extremely vulnerable position when we openly admitted our feelings for each other, but when I told him that I loved him, I meant every word of it. I knew he meant it, too, but there were moments where I fell into doubt, although I mostly remained firm in my thinking that he meant it just as much as I did. Still, there were things that we had yet to address, and for some reason, we did not speak about it.

It did not take me long to realize that we had not spoken about anything we had said, and it was like the elephant in the room had returned. We still had so much to talk about, but neither one of us initiated the conversation we so needed to have. There were things I wanted to tell him, questions I wanted to ask, and things I wanted to know, but I had to swallow it back and deal with it.

When the time was right, we would talk.

In a week, Carla was able to come back to work, but everyone ignored her. I had no idea the kind of relationship she had with her team, but as far as Team Gibbs went, we all ignored her. And she ignored us, which, really, no one cared about. The only person she was nice to was McGee, and that was when she accidentally bumped into him when hardly anyone was around. McGee was polite back to her, but other than that, he did not acknowledge her at all. I did, however, manage to catch at least two occasions when no one was around and she happened to bump into him. Neither one knew I was watching, but I thought I had seen her throw at him some very subtle hints of flirtation. McGee did not seem to notice the small hints Carla threw at him, which I was thankful for. If he had noticed, Abby would have found out; and if Abby would have found out about that, all hell would have broken loose for sure.

I had to give Carla credit for not being so obvious, though. She must have flirted with more men than a mathematician could count in his head, and that was probably why she was so good at hiding her flirtation. Other than the occasional flirt with McGee, she stayed out of everyone's hair. There was a day that an entire outburst happened in the bullpen, because she, of course, had started it, and it took Vance to come and break up the fight.

From behind my desk, I could hear her having a heated argument with another member of her team. It began to turn into yells, and eventually, they were screaming their heads off at each other. Gibbs and I even turned to see what the commotion was about – and at that point, everyone in the bullpen had stopped to stare as well. I was not so surprised to see when she lunged at the guy and they began to fight, and apparently, neither was Gibbs.

He was amused, in fact. His face seemed to be saying that it had been far too long that he had seen a fight like that.

"Not my team," he had said. "Not my problem." And he continued to watch the fight with much interest.

"She is such a troublemaker," I said.

"Where's the popcorn when you need it?" Tony said. He stood by my desk, followed by McGee, to get a closer look at the fight. We were all too distracted by the scene unfolding before us that we barely noticed when Vance came in to break up the fight. Vance had been in a terrible mood that morning and her fight set him off. She did not get suspended again (what was the point? She seemed to be more vicious when she came back), but Vance gave her a very embarrassing warning right in front of everyone. Everyone knew he meant business.

"Strike two, Agent Emilia," he said threateningly. The air seemed to have left the bullpen, as it suddenly became dead quiet in there. "If I have to come down and break up another stupid fight initiated by _you_, your ass is _fired!_"

Abby was a little pissed that she did not get to see Agent Emilia "get her ass owned by Vance," as she put it. She asked McGee why he did not record it. He said he was way too into the moment to even think about recording, but, he reminded her, if they were to look at the security footage tapes, they were likely to find it there. Gibbs said to forget about it and get back to work. Then he whacked McGee in the back of the head, and when McGee asked him what that was for, Gibbs simply said that he was Gibbs and that he could smack him anytime he damn well pleased.

In the two weeks' time before Abby and I left to Florida, I had been improving a whole lot. The bump on my forehead had gone completely by then; I was not aching nearly everywhere anymore; my shoulder began to feel better; and I actually began to look decent instead of a horrible mess. Abby's swollen and sore cheek healed faster than all of me did, but, according to her, at least she would not look absolutely hideous when she went to meet up with her biological parents for the first time.

"God only knows if they'll want to meet me with an abnormality on my face," she said bitterly. "I mean, they already gave me up."

"Having a swollen cheek is not an abnormality," I told her.

She gave me a weird look. I knew she was in one of those moods again, which consequently made me wonder once more if she was pregnant. I had to ask her sometime, but I did not just want to flat out say it. I had to slowly and nonchalantly build my way towards it. "I guess shit just happens?"

"I thought so," she replied shortly.

We bought our airline tickets almost a week before we were to leave and booked a room at the Embassy Suites hotel two days after that. We were lucky enough to be able to find everything we needed at decent prices. Kyle had told Abby that her parents were willing to let us stay in their home, but because we had no idea how things were going to go with Abby and her parents, she kindly declined and said we would stay at a hotel instead, but that thanks for the offer anyway, Kyle.

On the last Monday of January, two days before we left, Abby and I decided to finally tell everyone about our trip. We had already spoken to Vance, who said it was alright, and that he would be looking for someone to temporarily replace Abby for that entire week we would be out. This way, she noted, Gibbs could be angry all he wanted, but he could not change virtually anything. And now Tony would finally know that she was adopted, because everyone but him knew about it.

It was a slow Monday, and I was in Abby's lab. We were talking – mostly about her anxiety and that that was the reason she was able to drink about three Caf-Pows in ten minutes, making it up to a little over twenty Caf-Pows a day – until she decided to tell the team. So we went up to the bullpen. Abby went over to Gibbs's desk and stood there until he looked up at her.

"What, Abbs?" he asked.

"Ziva and I need to tell you something," she said. "Actually, _all _of you."

McGee looked like he did not know what to expect. He furrowed his brows in confusion and curiosity. He seemed to be expecting us to say that we were dating or something like that. Tony… well, I had no idea what he was thinking, but knowing him, it could not have been anything good.

"What?"

"Guess."

He really did not want to guess, so he stared at her until he got an answer out of her.

"Okay, so you don't want to guess. 'Coulda just said so, Gibbs. Anyway, Ziva and I are traveling to Florida on Wednesday. We're gonna be there for a week."

"What?" Tony and McGee said in unison, but Gibbs remained stoic.

"Why are you traveling to Florida for a week on Wednesday?" he wanted to know. "And why am I hearing about this now?"

"We already talked to Vance, Gibbs," Abby informed him. "And he said it was alright."

"Why are you two traveling to Florida, Abby?" He was beginning to get a little impatient.

"I'm gonna meet my biological parents," she said. "I have no idea how that's gonna go, but I thought I would need a few days, so I took off a week."

"Whoa, biological parents? What?" Tony piped up, but everyone ignored him for the time being.

"And Ziva has to go because…?"

"Because I thought I would need someone to go with me. So I asked her to come with me, and she said okay."

Gibbs shot me a look, but I said nothing. As far as I was concerned, Abby was handling this, and I would only step in if I really needed to.

"And anyway, we'll be fine, Gibbs, so don't worry. Kyle is going to pick us up from the Miami airport and drive us to West Palm Beach. So we're in good hands. Besides, we're big girls. We can take care of ourselves."

"Who's Kyle?" Tony asked, but again, he was ignored.

"Why am I hearing about this now?" Gibbs said as he stood up from his desk. "You two just decide to take a trip all the way down to Florida, and I'm hearing about it two days before you leave?"

"Okay, I'm confused. Can someone tell me what's going on? What biological parents? And who's Kyle?" Tony spoke again, and this time he was acknowledged by an angry Gibbs.

"DiNozzo, shut up," he snapped at him. Tony became quiet. He turned back to us. "You realize I need you two, right? So why the hell would you take a trip and drop the bombshell on us _two days before you leave?_"

I remained quiet. Besides, Abby was doing a good job of defending herself.

"Look, Gibbs, I know you need us, but we need our getaway time, too! Besides, it's only a week, not a month! Before you know it, Ziva and I will be back. You'll survive without us. You guys always pull through no matter what. And, for your information, this is important to me. So, if I feel like taking a trip across the country and letting you know two hours before I do so, then I will!"

I was holding my breath, and I was pretty sure Tony and McGee were, too. The only reason Abby spoke to Gibbs like that was because she knew she was the only one who could get away with it without any injuries, or even a head-slap. She and Gibbs were giving each other a glare – he was giving her his infamous Gibbs-stare, and she was giving him that glare she used to give me during the first year I came to work for NCIS as a liaison, which was also the same glare she gave me when we first spoke after I came home from Somalia. He finally broke it and said, "The next time you two decide to take a trip a few thousand miles away, you tell _me_ first. Not Vance."

He turned to face me. "And _you_," he said icily. "You better pray this is a light week for all of us, 'cause if we're stuffed up to our noses with cases and you're not here, I'll make sure you'll be doing DiNozzo and McGee's paperwork, along with your own, for the next month!"

Abby did not even spare a glance at me, but I could feel Tony and McGee staring at me from behind. Gibbs sat back down on his chair and continued to work on his computer. He did not say anything more or even look at us again. We took this as our cue to leave. As Abby and I left, I could hear Tony and McGee get up from their chairs and follow us out of the bullpen. I was surprised that Gibbs did not call any of us back to work. He must have been really, really mad. We all went into the elevator and Abby pressed the down button to go to her lab. But when the elevator began to move, Tony hit the emergency off switch and the elevator stopped.

"Okay, what is going on?" McGee asked.

"Yeah, and who's Kyle?"

Abby told them everything, though not exactly starting from the very beginning. She brought up the kidney story and how she found out that Kyle Davis was her biological brother. Tony was shocked – and possibly, truly a little hurt – that Abby had not told him that she was adopted. He feigned hurt, but I was sure that he really was a little hurt.

"Why does everyone know you're adopted and I don't?"

"Sorry, Tony," she said. "I guess it just kind of slipped my mind."

"It slipped your mind when you were telling everyone but me?"

"I guess I just wasn't thinking straight."

"Okay, you just hurt my feelings."

McGee stepped in. "That's beside the point, DiNozzo."

"Then what _is_ the point, McGee?"

He grinned. "There's a possibility that Ziva's gonna do all our paperwork soon."

Tony smiled along with him. "Oh, yeah," he said. "That's true. Is it terrible that I'm hoping it's not a light week this week?"

"Nope."

"Good. Cuz I really hate paperwork."

"I do, too."

"Speaking of…" Abby then turned to face me. "Thanks for backing me up, _Zee-vah!_"

"What?" I shot back. "You were handling it!"

"Gibbs was practically ripping my head off!"

"You realize you're the only one that can talk to Gibbs like that and get away with it, right?"

"I didn't think anyone would actually survive something like that," Tony quipped. "How _do_ you survive something like that?"

"You can't," McGee said. "Unless you're Abby."

"So what do you suggest? That we make Abby clones?"

Abby rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she said. "What's done is done. There is one more thing, though, Tony."

"Yeah?"

"Think you can take us to the airport on Wednesday?"

McGee's jaw dropped. "Why him?"

"It's the least I can do," she said with a smile, "to make it up to him for not telling him about the adoption."

"Okay," Tony shrugged, giving a surprised McGee a taunting grin. "I'll take you to the airport on Wednesday."

McGee flipped the switch back on, and the elevator began to move. "I hate all of you," he said as he stood right before the elevator doors, his back facing us. We all glanced at each other, not exactly sure what to think at that moment. "Except for Ziva," he went on. "And that's because she's doing my paperwork for the rest of the month."

* * *

><p>On Wednesday, I was up at nearly five in the morning. I figured I could get ready in about an hour or less, finish packing up the rest of my stuff, and then wait for Tony to come pick me up. He never specified who he would pick up first, but I imagined that Abby would take forever (or at least a little longer than me) and that Tony would probably pick me up first. By the time he came to pick me up, it was almost six, and I was out the door in no time. We were quiet on our way to pick up Abby who was not done by the time we got to her apartment.<p>

When she was through, she stepped out of her apartment with what seemed to be like a hundred suitcases. She had two big suitcases, one duffel bag, and two carry-on bags.

"Abbs, what's with all the suitcases?" Tony asked. "You'll only be gone for a week."

"I know," she said. "But this is everything I need."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "I'd hate to see what you'd bring if you had to be out of DC for a month."

"Me, too."

We arrived at the airport at about six fifteen. We checked-in, and then Abby announced she had to go pee very badly. She headed off, leaving Tony and I standing there alone. We stood there in silence for a few moments, but in my head, the commotion was nonstop. I had so many things going on at once, but among them, I was trying to think of something to say to break the silence. He beat me to it.

"So, you two are going to West Palm Beach?"

I turned to face him. He did the same. "Yes."

"You ever been there before?"

"No. Have you?"

"Nope. Just Miami. And Orlando. And Tampa. But never West Palm Beach."

"It should be interesting."

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "Take lots of pictures. I'm sure Gibbs would love to see them."

I chuckled at his light sarcasm. "Try not to catch so many cases this week," I said. "I really do not want to do your paperwork."

"In that case, I hope we catch tons of cases. I hate doing paperwork, too."

We laughed dryly at that. Another round of silence fell between us, and I noticed that both of us were fidgeting nervously with something. I knew I had to say something to break the silence and awkwardness. It was now or never. I took a deep breath and said, "Tony, we… we need to talk."

"Now?" he asked.

"No, not now. When I come back from Florida. We really need to talk."

He sighed audibly. "I know."

"I am sorry…" I began, but stopped when he gave me a weird look.

"For what?"

"I... I don't know."

"Ziva, about what happened the other day…" He stopped himself. I waited for him to go on, growing more and more anxious by the second. "What you said…. Did you mean it? Or were you taking advantage of the state I was in?"

"If I did not mean it, I would not have said it," I told him.

"'Cause, you know, we were both like really, really depressed at that moment; and I even shed a few tears, which is not normal for me, since that never happens. I mean, I'm a DiNozzo, and…" In my opinion, he was babbling. I felt like I was dealing with another Abby. So I shut him up. I slipped my arm around his neck and pulled him in towards me for a kiss. I wondered if he just continued to talk endlessly sometimes so that I would kiss him and shut him up, but I was too busy realizing that he returned the kiss without any hesitation. I had a few thousand reasons to love Tony DiNozzo, and he continued to surprise me every day. It would have taken me hours to list all those reasons – and even that was an understatement, but knowing that we were finally getting somewhere was enough for me to make it through the upcoming week.

At that moment, everyone around us seemed to have disappeared, and it was just us. Just the two of us. No one else existed.

When we pulled apart, our faces were still together. Our noses were pressed against each other's. He was breathless, and I felt tingly inside. I finally realized why that place had seemed so familiar. It was the picture we had seen on the camera, the public place where we had kissed. I wished the camera would give me more pictures like that instead of the disturbing ones I always got.

"I miss you already," Tony murmured as he gripped my hand and gave it a light squeeze.

"I love you," I said as I moved my face away from his and gave him a small kiss on the side of his head. I held his face between the palms of my hands when I let go of the light grip he had on my hand. "I promise we are going to talk when I get back."

"I don't know if I can wait that long," he said. "I mean, McGee can only entertain me for so long…"

I laughed a little bit. "We'll be back before you even know it."

"I hope so."

Abby came back from the bathroom, complaining about airport bathrooms. She mentioned that an elderly woman was giving her dirty looks for the way she was dressed. It hit me then that when we passed security, she was not exactly going to have the most pleasant time taking almost everything off just to get to the other side and prove she did not have anything explosive on her. We thanked Tony for giving us a ride to the airport, and he said he would pick us up again when we returned from our trip. Abby and I were soon off to go past security.

He waited there until we were both completely out of sight, and even then he still could have stayed behind a little more, although he had no reason to. When I stole one last glance at him, the look on his face said it all. He was not in love with the idea of me being gone for an entire week, and he would truly miss me. But, overall, the look on his face silently told me that he loved me as much as I loved him – maybe more, if that was even possible.


	17. Don't Sit on the Sidewalk

Hey, everyone. I apologize that this chapter took me a little longer than it normally does. It was kind of a poopie to write. On a bit of a side note, I don't think Abby's birth date has ever been mentioned in the show, but if it has, whatever. I've changed it to 1976. I have no idea what Tony's birth date has been listed as in the show, but in this fic, it will be in the 1970s, around Abby's birth year. Just to clear up any possible confusion(: I think that's all. Enjoy.

…..

:: Chapter 17 – Don't Sit on the Sidewalk ::

Abby tapped her pen repeatedly against the crossword puzzle book she was holding, trying to figure out the answers to it. I threw my head back and propped my feet up on my carry-on bag, which was on the floor. We were waiting for our plane to arrive, having already killed time with eating breakfast after we passed security and looking around the souvenir stores. We sat in silence, both of us lost in our own thoughts before she spoke, asking me a question that _I_ could have been asking _her_.

"What do you think my parents are gonna be like?"

I looked at her. "What?"

"What do you think my parents are gonna be like?" she asked again.

"Isn't that something _you_ should be thinking about?"

"Well, yeah, I have," she said, "but I was curious to know what you think."

"I have not really thought about it," I said. "I mean, they are _your _parents."

"I _know_, Ziva, but it's not like you can't think about it either."

"I do not know, Abby."

The next three hours or so were spent in an airplane. I had a window seat, and Abby had the seat right next to me. The seat at the edge was empty, and Abby took advantage of that when no one was looking. Sometime after the plane took off, she put all the armrests up and tried to lie down. The space was small, so she put her head down on my lap and stretched her feet out. She saw that that did not work because her legs were too long, so she folded her legs with her feet flat down on the chairs.

"Comfortable?" I asked with mild sarcasm.

She shrugged. "I'm alright," she said. "You don't mind that I'm like this, do you?"

"Well, no…"

"Okay, cool! Let me know when we're landing."

I had no idea how, but she slept throughout most of the plane ride. I really had no idea how she could sleep that much. I was not one to be able to sleep much throughout a plane ride. I was always too uncomfortable. So I stayed watching one of the movies that was playing. It was boring. I mostly thought about Tony and what he was doing at that very moment I had been thinking of him. I also wondered what Gibbs must have been doing. He must have been more pissed off than ever. And McGee – poor McGee – must have been stuck in the middle, as awkwardly as only he could, assuming that Tony was lost in his own thoughts of me as well.

At one point, I had to pee, but I did not want to tell Abby to move – much less when she was already sleeping – and interrupt her. But when it got so bad to the point where I literally felt like I would burst, I had to interrupt the sleeping beauty and go to the bathroom. When I came back, she was sleeping, this time in a normal sitting position. She stayed like that until we landed in Miami.

I woke her up when we landed and asked her, "Did you even sleep last night, Abby? You have been sleeping the entire plane ride."

"Yeah," she yawned. "Like two hours… or three… I can't really remember."

"Are you nervous?"

"I'm anxious."

"Try not to think about it so much," I told her. "We are not meeting them until tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah, thanks, Ziva, but, really, that's all I'm gonna be thinking about today. I don't even know if I'll be able to get enough sleep tonight either."

"You can take the bed," I said, "if it will help you sleep better."

"And you?"

"The room has a sofa-bed, right?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't wanna take a really big, comfortable bed all for myself and have you sleeping on an uncomfortable sofa-bed. We can share the bed. Besides, I don't have cooties."

I smiled to myself as I thought about how she had quoted me from when I had said that to her. When we exited the plane, we were able to get our luggage without any difficulties, and then Abby called Kyle to tell him that we had already landed and that we would wait for him. He was already on his way. After she called him, she called McGee and let him know that we landed safely. I did not mind the time that she took on the phone, even as I stood there with nothing to do, just waiting for her brother to come pick us up – until she started that whole _no-you-hang-up-first_ game with McGee.

She was giggling like a little schoolgirl, a way I had never seen her before. It was so weird and irritating. "No, Timmy, you hang up first!" she kept saying over and over. People were staring. Part of it had to do with the way she was dressed and because, yes, she basically towered over nearly everyone there, standing at six feet and one inch in height with her three inch platforms, but it was mostly because of her annoying cooing with the person on the other end of the line that earned her those stares.

"Okay, Timmy, we both hang up on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three."

Neither one of them hung up. She continued to giggle insanely.

"Tim! If you don't hang up, you're going to get in trouble with Gibbs!"

I had it. I had no idea what inside me just _snapped_, but I _had_ it. I grabbed the phone out of her hand and said, "If you still want to have a girlfriend by the time next week comes, McGee, I suggest you hang up right now!" The call ended right after that. Abby gave me a look of disbelief. She snatched the phone right back out of my hand.

"Gee, thanks, Ziva! He was my only distraction! Now I feel stressed out again!"

I scoffed. "I still exist, Abby."

Kyle arrived about twenty minutes later. He asked us about our flight, and we told him it was good. Abby told him about how she slept throughout most of the flight. I told him I watched a really boring movie, but that I had not been paying much attention to it. He asked us what we wanted to do and we decided we would go out to eat for lunch.

As we walked into a restaurant and were seated to our table, I got a text message from Tony. It read: _Heard from McGossip that you and Abbs are finally in the Sunshine State. How was your flight? Hope no crazy flight attendants tried to murder anyone there ;)._

I excused myself for a moment and headed off to the bathroom, which was empty, thankfully. I called him back.

"Well, hello, Miss I-travelled-all-the-way-to-Florida-and-can't-be-bothered-to-tell-anyone!" he said sarcastically.

"What are you doing? Are you at work?"

"Of course I'm at work," he said. "Why wouldn't I be at work?"

"Well, because you are talking to me."

"And?"

"And Gibbs is not around to kill you."

"He's on a coffee run right now. Thought I'd take a moment to call and see what's going on. So how was your flight with Abby? There were no killer flight attendants, right?"

I sighed and leaned back against the wall, thankful that no one was around to hear me. "Abby is being such a _witch_ today," I complained.

"You mean bitch?"

"No, I mean witch. I'm being nice."

"She's just nervous, Ziva. She's gonna meet her biological parents that no one ever told me about for the first time."

"I do not care if she's nervous or anxious or whatever, Tony. It is not my fault that she was adopted! _She_ asked _me_ to come along with her, so she should not be giving me an attitude, because none of this is _my_ fault!"

"Chillax, ninja girl," Tony said. "If it's bothering you that much, talk to her."

"I am not going to talk to her about it."

"Well, then, she's gonna keep on having an attitude with you."

"She will do it anyway."

"She'll probably like her biological parents and get along fine with them. And if she does, then you don't have to worry about her being a witch towards you. And besides, you won't have to worry about her being on your ass for the entire trip."

"Yes, I will, unless I decide to stay locked up in a hotel room for the rest of the week, which is not going to happen." I really hoped she got along with her parents, because I was not up to putting up with another week of her mood swings.

"Trust me; you won't have to deal with her for the entire trip."

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"Oh, you know what I mean, Ziva."

"No, I do not. What did you mean by that?"

"I mean… I have to go now. Gibbs is coming. Bye," he said hurriedly and hung up.

I stared at the phone in my hand for a few moments before I decided to leave the bathroom. Kyle and Abby were at the table, apparently waiting for a waiter to come. When he came and took our drink orders, Abby asked for a Caf-Pow, but the poor guy had no idea what that even was.

"Do you like… live under a rock or something?" she said to him.

Kyle raised his eyebrows and gave me a look. I was searching for ways to discreetly bury my face into my hands, but I could not look away for some reason. I had to stop her before she got us kicked out of the restaurant for something so silly.

"Abby," I interrupted, "not everyone in the universe knows what a Caf-Pow is."

She looked at me and sighed. "Fine. I'll just have water."

When the waiter finished taking all our orders, Kyle said, "You know, I think Caf-Pows should be more popular around here, don't you think?" I could tell he was just saying that in order to get on a certain good side of hers.

But it was not a good idea. Abby practically burst out with an overly exaggerated, "I know!" and began to talk non-stop about how Caf-Pows should have been available everywhere in the world. After a certain amount of time, I got tired of hearing her talk about the stupid drink, but I did not say anything. I kept my mouth shut and waited until our waiter arrived again to give us the food we had ordered in the midst of Abby's rant.

After lunch, we were headed to West Palm Beach. It took about an hour or so, since there was traffic in Miami, even at that time. Kyle dropped us off at the hotel, where we checked in and settled our stuff in the hotel room. It hit me then that with Kyle gone, the two of us were stuck there until early the next day with nothing to do – and it was only around two o' clock in the afternoon.

We settled in and unpacked some stuff. The bathroom, small as it was, became packed with our stuff, but mostly Abby's. Overall, she had the most everything. The bed was a King-sized bed, enough to fit at least three people. After we had mostly settled in, I decided to take an early shower and a nap. Abby was still unpacking several things when I crashed on the bed, but when I closed my eyes, I was out.

I slept for about six hours straight. When I woke up again, I was feeling a little bit disoriented. All I knew was that the sky was dark, it smelled like food inside the room, and my arms were wrapped around Abby's hippo, Bert. I sat up in bed and walked out of the room. Abby was sitting on the couch, watching something on TV and eating.

"Hey, you're finally awake," she said when she saw me. "It's a good thing, too. I was beginning to think that you were dead or something. You know you've been sleeping for six whole hours?"

She said that I had been staring at her very weirdly, although I did not remember that small detail very much. I did remember her setting her white take-out container down next to her and walking over to me. And I remembered feeling strange, as though I had been floating in the air or something like that. It was a weird feeling that I had experienced maybe once or twice in my life, usually after naps, but certainly not common, and definitely not very pleasant. All I could think of was going back to bed and sleeping some more.

"While you were sleeping, I walked over to the restaurant across the street. 'Bout an hour and a half ago. Brought you something. I thought you might be hungry after you woke up. Oh, and I got some drinks from the vending machine out in the hall. I didn't think I could walk back from the restaurant with food _and_ drinks."

I felt myself being led into the bathroom and being told to wash my face. I was still in what felt like a dream-like state, which I found to be odd, even for myself. It wore off a few minutes after but the concern on Abby's face was evident. She looked like she was thinking that I somehow died in my sleep and emerged again as a ghost. She could see that I was still disoriented from my nap and began talking to me as though she were talking to a five year old. It annoyed me.

"You wanna eat?" she asked me.

At first, I did not really suspect she was treating me like a child. I nodded. I sat down and she pulled out a box container from a bag and set it in front of me. She went on, much to my frustration. She continued to talk to me like I was a child until I stopped her.

"Abby," I said, "stop."

"Stop what?" she asked.

"Stop talking to me like I am a child."

She noticed it, too. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to. You just kind of have this strange look on your face, like you're out of it or something."

I took two bites out of the food she brought me, and that was it for me. I closed the lid of the container and pushed it aside.

"You're not hungry?" Abby asked me.

"Not really. I will finish eating it tomorrow."

She shrugged. "Okay. Can't guarantee it'll be there by tomorrow, but I'll certainly try." There was an awkward moment of silence between us before she spoke again. "I was just kidding." I said nothing else, but that did not stop her from talking. "Anyway, Ziva, I was gonna tell you earlier, but you've been sleeping this whole time… I'm sorry for acting like a total witch earlier."

I looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"I heard you talking to Tony when we went to eat with Kyle," she said with a sigh. "I kinda listened by the door. I didn't mean to snap at you the way I did, but I just have a lot going on in my head right now. I hardly know what to feel, and I'm super tired, but I can't fall asleep. I know that's not a good excuse to be acting stupid, but still."

"It is fine, Abby. I understand." But I was lying through my teeth, and I knew it. I was on the verge of snapping if she gave me an attitude again. I did not tell her that since she was being sincere, and we were both tired.

"It's okay if you're mad at me," she said. "I'd be mad at me, too, if I were you."

"I am not mad at you," I told her. _Yet,_ I thought. I did not exactly doubt she would push my buttons again sometime throughout the trip. "I was never mad at you."

"Why don't I believe you?"

I shrugged.

"Well, I'm gonna let that one slide because you still look really tired."

I nodded.

"And – I hope you don't mind, but while you were sleeping, I put Bert with you. Just so you had something to sleep with. You looked really lonely in that bed so I thought you could use some company from Bert."

"Thank you."

"And because Tony's not here." She smirked.

"What?"

"I know you miss him. Your eyes haven't shut the hell up about it since he left us as the airport. He's all you've been thinking about."

I stood up. "I am going back to sleep." I walked back into the room, shutting the door behind me. Her words continued to echo in my head, even after she said good night with a small fit of giggles. Although I had not openly admitted it to her – and I was not sure if I even would – she was right. I had been thinking about Tony all day and dreaming about him when I was not awake. I could not help but wonder what he was doing at that very moment that I thought of him. Maybe, hopefully, he was thinking of me, too.

* * *

><p>It was six in the morning when I woke up again. I realized I had slept for another ten hours straight. Abby was awake by the time I woke up. She was right next to me in bed, lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. When she felt me stir, she turned to me and said, "Hey."<p>

"Have you been awake this whole time?" I asked her.

"Not exactly. I was able to sleep for like two hours only. How can you sleep so much?"

"I guess I am catching up on sleep."

"Kyle's gonna come at around ten to pick us up."

"How do you feel?" I asked her.

"Do you really have to ask?"

"Yes."

"Like I want to crawl in bed and never come out."

"I think you will like your parents."

She looked at me. "What makes you so sure?"

I shrugged. "I am just guessing. I have a feeling you will like them."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that."

"Why not?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess I'm just thinking that I'm gonna be angry with them for giving me up and that I won't like them too much."

"Oh, come on, Abby, you are their daughter. I am sure you will find something you have in common with them. I do not think you will hate them. You do not hate anyone."

I could almost hear her smirk. "That you know of." And, well, she was right about that.

We stayed talking for a few hours before we got up and went to get breakfast. It was around nine when we went, and Kyle picked us up at about ten fifteen. Abby was talking nonstop in the car, and I knew it was to take her mind off the nervousness she felt. I was pretty sure she was driving Kyle crazy with everything she was saying. She barely let him squeeze a word or two in between her rambling, and my own head was spinning from all the talking she did.

We finally arrived at her parents' house, which was twenty minutes away from the hotel. I knew that Abby knew we were arriving because she began to quiet down. At that point, even I was feeling nervous for her. I couldn't help it. It was a little bit nerve-wracking. We had no idea how anything was going to turn out. Things could have gone perfectly fine, just as they could have gone completely haywire. It was hard to tell.

The three of us got out of the car and went up to the house. Abby insisted that she knock, but soon after she said that, we were still waiting for her to do so.

"Abby, you're not knocking," Kyle pointed out.

"I know that. Just give me a moment," she said.

Dramatically, she took a deep breath. Then another. And another. And another. It looked like she was hyperventilating. Kyle stopped her, and then asked her if she wanted him to knock instead.

"No, no, I'll do it," she insisted.

I tried hard not to roll my eyes or groan or do anything that suggested that I was beginning to lose my patience. It was something as simple as knocking on a stupid door, and even that she could not do. After a few more moments of waiting, I said, "Do you want me to knock?"

"No, I got this."

I heard Kyle sigh heavily. We waited a few more minutes before I seriously just got fed up with it and knocked on the door a few times. Abby gave me a look of disbelief, almost ready to protest. She was not able to carry on with it, though, when the door suddenly opened, revealing a tall, skinny woman. She had pale skin with freckles, green eyes, and black hair tied back in a high ponytail. Her expression was soft but tired.

There was a long moment where everyone just froze. Abby stared. The lady stared right back. I was looking back and forth, trying to see if there was any kind of resemblance between the two. Kyle also stared, but for different reasons. He was the first one to break the silence, since it seemed no one else was going to anytime soon.

"Mom, this is Abby," he introduced them. "Abby, this is Mom."

The lady told us to come in and to take a seat and make ourselves at home. We sat on the couch without uttering another word, save for Kyle who was asking her general questions. I was amazed at how quiet Abby was. For her, that was quite the task most of the times. I sat by her on the couch, just watching as she blankly looked on at what was happening. I knew everything was still sinking in for her and that eventually, she would snap out of the trance-like state she was in.

As we sat there, just waiting, a man came out of the kitchen and into the living room. I assumed it was Abby's dad because the resemblance was there. He was a tall man, standing at probably six feet, four inches. He was also a light-skinned man, but a few shades darker than the lady standing beside him. He had green eyes. I felt like a munchkin, being around such tall people. At least now I knew why Abby was so tall.

The man and the woman took a seat right across from us. Kyle awkwardly took a seat next to them. They looked like they wanted to start a conversation, but had no idea where to start. It did not look like Abby was going to start talking either, so I thought I would introduce myself and hopefully help lower the tension in the room.

"Hi," I said, almost immediately regretting it when all eyes fell on me. "I'm Ziva. I am a friend of Abby's. We work together."

Her mother was nice at least.

"Hello," the woman said politely. "I'm Penny. My real name is Millicent, but people call me Penny 'cause of the 'cent' in my name. This is my husband Vince. We just call him Vince."

I laughed along with her to be nice. What I really wanted to do was get the hell out of there and be somewhere else. I had no idea how I was going to survive so much time in there, but I did not stop there. I went on. "This is Abby," I said as I pointed to her.

Kyle jumped in. "Yeah, Mom, Dad – Abby and I had been talking about going over to visit you for a while now. She didn't want to travel alone, so she brought her friend Ziva with her. They got here yesterday morning."

"Did you have a good flight?" Penny asked.

"I have had better," I said. "But it was not too bad."

We were all stalling, and it was getting on my nerves. Of all days, why did Abby choose to be quiet now? Time was of essence, and I did not really want to stay in that house all day waiting for her ass to finally do something.

"Abby really wanted to meet you guys," Kyle said, but his words were left hanging in the air. It did not even look like she wanted to be there.

Her mother turned to face her, and for once, Abby looked up and made eye contact with her. I could practically see the wheels in her head turning, but I did not know what was going through her mind. A lot of things probably were. I imagined so many emotions going on, enough to make anyone's head spin. I had not even realized I was holding my breath until she spoke. She was blunt when she did – perhaps more than any one of us would have been comfortable with.

"I just have one question," she said. "Why did you give me up?"

They were clearly uncomfortable with the question. I wanted to look away or get up and excuse myself, but a part of me could not deny that I wanted to see what was going to happen next. It was intriguing, yet absolutely uncomfortable.

Penny looked gentle. "Sweetie…" she began but was cut off.

"_Abby,_" she interrupted curtly.

Even I felt that one.

"Abby…. When your father – err… Vince… when we had you, it was a rough time for us. We couldn't afford to have a baby at that time. We weren't even married. Believe me, we wanted to keep you, but we couldn't. We had no other choice but to put you up for adoption."

"And what were the circumstances?" Abby asked.

"We didn't have a house," her mother explained. "We weren't married. We were both living with our parents. We had low paying jobs. And then I found out I was pregnant."

"So I was unplanned?"

"Unplanned, yes."

"An accident!"

"Not an accident. I loved you from the moment I knew I was carrying you." Abby probably missed it, but she looked sincere, like she was speaking from the heart. At least I believed her. "But I wanted the best for you, and I knew that if we had kept you, we weren't going to be able to give you the best. That's why we had to give you up."

"There's always another option."

"What other option did we have that would have been good for you?"

"I don't know; you could have kept me! Clearly, you're not in a shithole anymore! You had Kyle!"

"Six years later," her mother said. "In 1982. A lot of things changed in six years' time."

"Like what?"

"After we gave you up for adoption, I knew that that could not happen again. Vince and I got better jobs and bettered ourselves. Then I found out I was pregnant with Kyle, and when I did, the circumstances were nowhere near as bad as it was when we had you. We could actually afford to have a child, but we only had one more. I never did stop thinking of you. I knew you were still out there and that I had to get to you someday. Unfortunately, we never told Kyle that he had an older sister. We should have."

"If you were so hell-bent on meeting me, why didn't you do anything sooner?"

"I don't know," Penny admitted. "I should have. I've screwed up so many times in my life, and giving you up has been my number one mistake. I should have gone looking for you sooner. But I didn't."

"Why didn't _you?_" her father asked. It was the first time he spoke; he sounded calm, but a little accusative. After he did, it became quiet for a split second. It did not last long. Abby was soon with snapping back at him.

"_I_ didn't know I was adopted! And my _parents_ are dead; they never told me!" She stopped herself with a deep breath and then turned to me. "Ziva, can you give us a few minutes?"

I had no idea what she supposed I was to do if I gave them a few minutes. But I knew it was best to do as she said because she was bound to get angrier, and I did not want to provoke that. Not right now. I simply nodded and said, "Okay. I will be waiting outside."

No one in the room made another sound until I was out the door. I did not realize how out of place I felt until I left the house, and although there was still a part of me that wanted to know what was going to happen between Abby and her parents, I was better off waiting. If Abby did not want to tell me later on what happened in there after I left, then I would simply ask Kyle. But Abby being Abby would eventually crack. She was not the type to keep things bottled up inside.

I walked all the way past the garage and the cars parked in the driveway, until I reached the sidewalk, not really knowing where else to go. If I sat on the porch, it would be too close to the house. Kyle had driven us here, so it was his car, and he had the keys anyway. I wanted to be as far away as possible without being too far away.

So the sidewalk it was.

I paced back and forth, trying to kill time. I took my phone out and began to do anything I could think of on it. I took random pictures and deleted them. I began a text message, saved it to my drafts, and then deleted those, too. I added high numbers on the calculator. I tested all the default pictures as wallpapers before settling back to my original one. Then I got bored of doing all that.

I was about to sit down on the sidewalk, and possibly start to count any cracks I saw on the ground, but that stopped when I felt someone from behind me grab me in a light headlock. My first instinct, as always, would have been to fight back. Nothing I had not done before. But it was _that voice_ – that voice I would have recognized a thousand miles away.

"Try anything and I'll tell Gibbs that we made out one time in autopsy."

I turned around, freeing myself from his headlock. There he was, in the flesh. Despite the hundreds of questions running through my mind – one of them being _what the hell are you doing here, Tony?_ – I could not help but notice that he looked absolutely sexy under the Floridian sun.

"That never happened!"

He grinned. "But it should, don't you think?"


	18. To Talk and Melt

I'm not one-hundred percent pleased with this chapter, never mind the fact that it was a pain in the freaking ass to write. I wasn't planning on ending it this way, but meh. I hope you guys enjoy anyway!

…..

:: Chapter 18 – To Talk and Melt ::

Before Abby left the house, I was standing there, hardly believing what I was seeing. I had no idea what Tony was doing there, how he got there, or why he was even there. But he was. And that was all there was to it. He was there. For a split second, I was convinced that I was dreaming. That I had fallen asleep waiting for Abby and woke up within my dream. But that thought was quickly pushed to the back of mind. _This_ was not a dream. And I was glad it was not.

"Stop looking at me like that," he said. "You look like you've just seen a ghost or something."

"Tony, what are you doing here?" I asked him. "You are supposed to be in DC. Working! Does Gibbs know you are here? If you snuck out without him knowing, you are going to be so dead when he sees you again!" I continued to trail on until he put his hand over my mouth to stop me before removing it again.

"You sound like Abby right now. Anyway, since you probably have like tons of questions to ask me, I'll just answer them right now. I got here by plane."

"When?"

"Left last night. Like around ten. After work."

"Did you tell Gibbs?"

"Of course I told Gibbs. If I didn't, he'd find my ass and hunt me down in no time."

"So what did you tell him?"

"I told him that my sister was sick and that I needed to travel to Georgia to be with her for a few days." He looked uncertain.

And he should have been. "Tony, you don't _have_ a sister!" I said. "Gibbs knows that. _Everyone_ knows that!"

"I know I don't have a sister, Ziva. I think I would know that piece of information. But Gibbs totally bought it."

"What?" Gibbs buying a straight-up lie? His anger must have been clouding up his ability to think.

Tony shrugged. "Yeah, he bought it. He looked concerned. He even insisted on buying some flowers for her so that I could give them to her, but I told him no."

"Tony, why?"

"I thought the flowers would be crushed in my suitcase."

I rolled my eyes. "No. _Why_ did you lie to Gibbs?"

He shrugged again. "He believed me, so I don't see what the big deal is."

"Obviously, you lied to him because you did not want to tell him the real reason you would be travelling. Otherwise, you would not have lied to him. Gibbs is going to find out that you lied to him. He was probably just pretending." Either way, he was going to be in trouble when he got back – whenever that was – but that was the least of my concerns. "But you still have not told me why you are here."

He gave a dramatic sigh. "McGee was worried," he said, "about Abby. He thought she was kinda losing it a little with this whole adoption thing, so he paid me to check up on you guys. I told him that you two are adults and that you could take care of yourselves, but you know how he is. 'Fact, I should call him right now and let them know you're both okay. I mean, I don't see Abby anywhere, but given the fact that she's not on the floor, lying in a pool of her own blood or anything, I'll assume she's just fine." He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but I stopped him.

"I do not believe you."

"I guess you have a problem then."

"_You_ are going to have much worse than that if you do not tell me the truth."

"I already told you, Ziva. What else do you want me to say?"

"Tell me the reason you are really here. You do not expect me to believe that you came here because McGee asked you to, do you?"

"It would certainly help."

I glared at him. He told me that I could stare at him all I wanted to but that he would still stand by what he said. I continued to glare at him, knowing that he was not going to be able to keep up the "McGee-paid-me-so-I-went" story for long. I had no idea how long we simply just stared at each other, but he eventually gave in, which is exactly what I was hoping for. On another note, I was glad my stare-downs still had some effect on someone other than McGee.

His shoulders dropped in defeat. "Fine," he said seriously. "You and I need to talk. I couldn't wait until you came back. It's a long wait. So I thought I would come here."

"I told you that we would talk when I came back. I was not kidding about that."

"I know. But I didn't wanna wait."

"Did you tell anyone?"

"Just McGee. He was there when I told Gibbs that I was leaving to Georgia, so I told him to keep his mouth shut and not mention where I was really going. Let's just say he wasn't too happy about having to be with Gibbs alone for a week. He made me promise to get him some souvenirs for leaving him all alone."

"So how were you able to find me?"

"I had him track you and Abby's phone. I got to Miami really early this morning, rented a car, and plugged in the GPS. McNerd helped me buy one last night. Didn't want to get lost in Florida."

"It took you hours to get over here? Did you get lost even with a GPS?"

He scowled at me. "For your information, it took me like an hour and half to reach you two. Once I rented the car and plugged in the GPS, I parked somewhere and went to sleep. Figured I'll survive a few hours of sleeping in a car. Besides, it's not like I'm going to spend the rest of the week sleeping in a car."

When I asked him if this "trip" was planned, he said it was not. He just did it on impulse – at least, according to him, it had been done on impulse. I asked him where he planned to stay. His answer was simple. "With you, of course."

"With me?"

"Let me rephrase that: with you _and Abby_."

But he had said with me first, and my mind was all over the place after that. Technically, if he were to stay with us, he would have been with both me _and_ Abby, yes, but it was not like the three of us were just going to share one bed. I thought about the possibilities, which were not that many. Abby and I could take the bed and he could sleep on the couch. Well, he liked to complain about his back sometimes when it came to sleeping somewhere that was not a bed. Alright, so he could take the bed and Abby and I the couch. Or, we could both send Abby off to the couch and take the bed together. That sounded like a much better plan, something even Abby would probably not mind doing. Yeah, I definitely liked that plan much better.

"You are staying with us?"

"Why not? You're not really going to make a really handsome guy like me go find a motel and stay there for the rest of the week, are you?" he smiled.

Of course, I would never actually do that. "Maybe."

His face fell. "You serious?"

"No." I stepped closer to him. "I would like for you to stay with us, and I am glad you are here. Now I do not have to deal with Abby for the rest of the week."

He smiled smugly and took a step forward as well. "I told you wouldn't have to deal with Abby for the rest of the week. Should have believed me."

"How could I believe you if I did not even know what you were talking about?"

He shrugged. "Have faith, I guess?"

I smiled back at him and wrapped my arms around his waist. The smile never left either one of our faces. "Like you would if I had said the same thing to you? Are you going to hold a grudge against me for that?"

He returned the gesture by putting his arms around me as well. "No, I won't hold a grudge against you – if you do something for me."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"A hello kiss."

I raised an eyebrow at him, a little taken aback. But I was not complaining. Honest.

"'_Tony, what are you doing here'_ isn't exactly the kind of greeting I like to get."

"Well, a headlock is not exactly the kind of greeting I like to get either."

"Okay, so you give me a kiss and I give you one back. We'll be even."

I pretended to think about it. "Fine," I said. "We are even now." He was waiting for me to initiate it, probably since he asked for it first. I was waiting for him to initiate as well, but he, as it turned out, was not being completely cooperative with me. I had to stand on my tip toes to reach up to him (it was a little redundant, but I wanted to do it anyway), and only when I did, he brought his face closer to mine, closing the gap between our lips. My arms went around his neck as I did, allowing me better balance. He was apparently expecting a small peck or something; when he tried to pull away soon after, I quickly held him back against me. The only thing I initiated was a deeper kiss, and the only reason I allowed us to pull away from each other was because we needed to come back up for air.

"I feel welcomed now," he said humorously.

"Good," I said. "Because I missed you."

"It's only been a day, Ziva," Tony said as though it were the most obvious thing ever.

He was right about that. It had only been one day. A day that felt extremely long, having woken up super early to deal with a nearly unbearable restlessness in a plane for around three hours and with a very moody Abby. One day only – and I still missed him more than I cared to admit out loud. I gave him a questioning look.

"But I missed you, too."

That was all he had to say. Before we could say anything else to each other, we suddenly heard rapid footsteps in the near distance. I knew it was Abby, but why she was running, I had no idea. Still, if she was running, it was possibly not a good thing. She went past the cars and the garage, out to the sidewalk, and straight into me. I caught her in my arms as she sobbed heavily into my neck.

Kyle came walking behind her a few moments later and up to us. For a moment, he was confused, but it was not about Abby crying. In a way, he seemed to have been expecting that. He had no idea who Tony was, though. In the midst of Abby's heart-wrenching sobs, I introduced them to each other. Abby was lost in her own little world because she did not hear any one of us talking or even noticed that Tony was there.

"Ah, so you're the famous Kyle," Tony said as he shook his hand.

"That would be me," Kyle said with a small smile, returning the hand shake. "I've heard a little bit about you."

"You have?"

"Yeah, Abby's told me some things about you – about all her co-workers actually."

Tony wrinkled his nose uncomfortably. "Huh. Cool, I guess. Well, I'm Ziva's partner. We, uhh… we work together." Kyle smiled and nodded politely at him before saying that he already knew that. They continued to talk, mostly Kyle asking Tony what brought him down to Florida and Tony explaining that he was going to join us because he had some things to take care of. I could tell that he was not entirely comfortable with explaining exactly why he had come, but he covered it up nicely.

I had snot running down my neck and past my collarbone – so much, in fact, it was beginning to form a huge wet spot on my shirt and run down to my bra. It was disgusting, but I was not going to push Abby away for it. Even if I had wanted to, she had a firm grip around me, holding on to me as though her life depended on it. Instead, she moved away herself when she finally seemed to notice Tony's presence. "Tony!" she squealed. She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around him and burying her face into his neck. He caught her on time, luckily; she never stopped crying, and she did not question why he was there.

There I was, standing awkwardly, feeling like the third wheel and covered in snot.

"Will you guys need a ride home?" Kyle asked me.

"No. Tony rented a car, and he has a GPS in it. I think I remember the way back to the hotel," I told him. "But thank you."

"Sure thing," he said. "Tell Abby I'll call her later?"

I gave him a nod. "I will tell her. Thank you, Kyle."

After he left and went back inside the house, the three of us continued to stick around, mainly because Abby was crying nonstop like there was no tomorrow. Tony tried his best to comfort her, treating her like one would do a child. While Abby was no little girl, she certainly acted like one more than half of the time. In a way, it was very much like a father trying to comfort his daughter, almost steering clear of the brother and sister relationship they had. It was weird from my standpoint, so to speak, but also oddly sweet. I said nothing and used the bottom of my shirt to wipe away the snot I had running down my neck.

I found myself uncharacteristically breathing a sigh of relief to myself when Abby moved her face away from Tony's neck and peered into his face. "Tony, what are you doing here?" she asked him.

_Welcome back,_ I thought bitterly.

"Just thought I'd come and say hi," Tony said, but I had the feeling he would be explaining himself later – after Abby demanded answers.

"Is Tim with you?" she asked.

"Uhh… no…."

"Then where is he?"

"Back in DC… working…"

"You left Tim alone? With Gibbs?" she yelled. Before he could even say anything in response to that, she burst into another fit of tears, and her face went straight back into his neck. Tony just rolled his eyes. He looked like he was starting to get annoyed (I did not blame him if he was), so I asked him if he wanted to leave and he said yes. The only reason he let me drive was because I remembered the way back to the hotel.

* * *

><p>Dealing with Abby on that day was like dealing with an unbearably annoying little girl. The good thing was that she calmed down a bit, but the bad thing was that she would not shut up. On another positive note, she was becoming sleepy from all the crying, but she managed to fight it until at least eight o' clock at night. We got back to the hotel, and she sat down on the couch. For some reason unexplained, she was acting really clingy to Tony. She wanted to be with him and around him that entire time, and the truth was that the irritation could not be more evident on his face. But she was oblivious to that. Tony wanted to help, he really did, but Abby was not exactly the easiest person to deal with when she was in a PMS-like state. She did not make it any easier for us either.<p>

Naturally, I asked her what had gone on between her and her parents that had her so worked up, but she was not specific about anything. She said she didn't like them, but her opinion of them seemed to change slightly throughout. She began with saying that she didn't like them. Then she said that she hated their guts and never wanted to see their stupid faces for as long as she lived. Finally, she settled with not being able to stand them. She got her point across that she was clearly displeased with them, and I understood that, but one thing was to dislike them. It was another thing to hate them with a passion.

After hearing her rant for a few hours, we decided on getting lunch from the restaurant right across the hotel. Tony asked us if he could get us anything, but I insisted on going with him. Abby wanted to tag along, too. So we took the car and had to deal with more of her babbling and seemingly endless rants. Her mouth was like a motor that _never_ died.

It was nearly eight when Abby began to lose the fight against sleep. Her eyelids were getting droopy, but she continued to fight it. She rubbed her eyes a lot, trying to wear the sleep off, but it only seemed to make her even more tired. She seemed to be frustrated that she could barely carry on with what she was saying because she was so tired, and that all seemed to add more to her tiredness. In a way, it was quite humorous to see her like that – not that I would ever tell her that if I wanted to live.

"Abby, are you tired?" Tony asked her, although we all already knew the answer to that.

"No," she lied. "I'm not tired."

"I think you are."

She began to sound slurred. "I'm not tired," she said again. "I'm still mad at you for leaving Tim behind."

"Yeah, we'll talk about that in the morning," he told her. "You should go to sleep now, Abbs. You've had a long day. Want me to take out the sofa-bed?"

"No," she mumbled. He eased her down on the couch and handed her a pillow. She buried her face in the pillow, still trying to convince us that she was not tired. She was almost completely out of it. "I'm still not tired."

"Yeah, I know, Abbs."

She began to say something, but she fell asleep mid-sentence at that very moment. Tony and I finished tucking her in and put Bert into her arms. She gripped the hippo tight in her sleep, but never stirred, much less become aware of anything that was happening around her. It became painfully quiet after that. The TV was off, and we were just standing there, not really knowing what to do next.

I had no idea why I had the tendency to want to back out during _those_ moments where I knew what was to come. I excused myself with saying I was going to take a shower. Tony told me not to take too long and that he would go after I was done. I took about half an hour before he started to complain about me taking too long. I wrapped up my shower soon after that. I got out, dried myself, threw on some pajamas, and let him take a shower.

Abby was still sound asleep. She had not moved much, if at all, after she had fallen asleep. It seemed to me like World War III could have been going on by her side, and she would not hear a thing.

Tony's suitcase was in the room. Mine was in the corner at the end of the room, right next to the bed, and his was near the entrance of the room. He had a small carry-on bag set on the table, right over the phone. The room looked relatively empty, compared to the living room area where Abby was. It looked messier over there since her bags were all over the place, one of her suitcases open, with several things hanging out of it. I still was not convinced she was going to need or even use every single thing she brought with her. But then again, women tended to over pack when it came to trips…

After about ten minutes, Tony finished in the shower. I could feel myself getting more and more anxious and nervous, despite the fact that I was the one that told him that we had to talk. Which was true – we _did_ have to talk. There were things we had to address and things we needed to stop avoiding when we were with each other. And that was the main reason he was here. If things had been going fine between us, he probably would not have followed me and Abby all the way down to Florida.

But he did, and we had to do what was necessary.

He came into the room after he had finished in the shower, and I said, "You take fast showers." Not that that was relevant in any way, but I had to say something in order to avoid another awkward silence, which seemed to happen a lot lately.

"I'm a guy, Ziva. I don't take forty minute showers like I'm sure you and Abby do."

I had purposely elongated my shower, but I did not tell him that. "We are women."

"And I'm a guy. Just get in, get clean, get out. That's it."

He sat on the floor, looking through his suitcase and digging through things, trying to find something. I did not ask what he was looking for or if he needed help. I simply sat down on the bed and waited for him to stop what he was doing. The silence got to him, and he turned his head and looked at me, silently asking me what. I got off the bed and sat down on the floor next to him, leaning a little against his suitcase.

"At the airport before Abby and I left… you asked me if I had really meant what I said during our movie night," I began. He stopped rummaging through his suitcase and listened. "I know I already answered that question, but yes, I really did mean what I said. Tony, you know I am not very good at expressing my feelings and emotions, so when I said it, I truly meant it. I would not have taken advantage of your vulnerability, nor I would do it at all. I was vulnerable, too. We both were."

He was giving me a look that I could not exactly decipher. He looked interested in what I was saying, but I had no idea what was running through his mind.

"But," I went on, "I did not ask get to ask you that question back. You have not told me if you meant it when you said it."

He dodged the question, but I had a lingering feeling that he would get back to it later. It bothered me to a certain extent that he clearly avoided it, but whatever he was going to say, I knew it would be important. "That night when we were at your house after Abby was in the hospital, remember?" How could I forget? I nodded my answer, urging him to go on. "I wanted to tell you, but… we got carried away in our conversation, and… the next thing I know, you were kissing me, and my mind wasn't concentrating on anything except for the fact that you were kissing me. But…"

There came the part that I was dreading. "You pushed me away, and that made me feel… I don't know what the word for it is. I was getting mixed signals from you. I wasn't sure if you really wanted me or if you were using me. Then Carla came along…"

It almost pained me to hear that name. "And you started dating her," I finished for him.

"No," he said.

"No?"

"No," he said again.

"What do you mean no?"

"I was never dating her. I never even liked her."

"What are you talking about? The moment she came up to us in the bullpen, you were immediately captivated by her."

"Is that what you think?" he said.

"It's what everyone in the bullpen was thinking!"

"Good," he smirked. "Then my job was done."

Now I was just confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I never liked her, Ziva. She wasn't unattractive, but I wasn't attracted to her. But since the night before, I had no idea what to think after what had happened, and I wanted to make you jealous. I figured I could when I saw her come over."

I furrowed my brows. "You wanted to make me jealous?"

"Did it work?"

"No."

He smirked again. "Yeah, right. You were totally jealous."

I veered from the topic a little. "So you never went out with her? She never asked you to be her boyfriend?"

He shrugged. "Well, I mean, we went out to eat a couple of times, but she was so _boring_. I didn't want to be with her at all. All she ever did was flirt with me. I never flirted back with her, because I just didn't like her. I was never into her. I wanted to make you jealous."

"Why?" I asked.

"Haven't you been listening to anything I've said?"

I stared at him. It all went down to the question I had asked him before he began to talk. He was staring back at me, not really hesitating. It looked more like he was afraid to mess something up or ruin something that did not need any ruining.

"Tell me," I said. "Why? Why were you trying to make me jealous?"

He became serious then. He inched closer to me to the point where I could feel his body heat on me. "Because I love _you_. And, yes, I really mean that. I have for a long time." He paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "When you told me that Carla was 'cheating' on me – although I don't know if it can be called 'cheating' if I wasn't even dating her – I believed you."

"No, you did not. You said it was really absurd."

"Yeah, I said it was _absurd_. I never once said I didn't believe you."

I was beginning to think that he was somehow trying to mess with my mind or something. "Yeah, but… but…" I had no idea what to say. It was true; when I thought back to the moment I told him about Carla, he did not say that he did not believe me. But with the way he had been acting, I just assumed that he did not believe me at all.

Tony put a finger over my lips to silence me and said, "Ziva, listen. All Carla ever did was flirt with me. Anyone ten miles away could see that she's the type of girl that will flirt with a rock. Even I could tell that I wasn't the only guy she was seeing, but I couldn't be one-hundred percent sure about it. She was just _that_ good at hiding her secrets. I wasn't surprised when I caught her with the other guy, but the situation made me angry. I guess in a way I wanted to see for myself a picture of her kissing another guy or something like that, and so I made you think I didn't believe you… I guess to get even with you for pushing me away that night at your house. But things didn't exactly go the way I wanted them to."

"What do you mean?" I asked. I took his hand and intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I wanted you to admit that you were jealous and apologize for the way you made me feel. But things turned bad after that. You just _had_ to be so damn nosy and sneak into Carla's house and nearly get yourself killed. Abby, of course, was the one that started to freak out when you weren't answering her on the phone, and so McGee did a trace on your phone, and I recognized the address instantly. I knew that things weren't good at that point. I couldn't even begin to imagine what was happening there; I just knew it wasn't anything good."

He, I noticed, almost looked ashamed. It was as if he was still angry at himself about what had happened then. I did not want him to feel as though he was to blame because if all that happened was anyone's fault, it was my own. I ruined everything the night that I pushed him away. My insecurities got in the way, and I hated that, but maybe it was a good thing, too. It did eventually lead us here – the floor of a hotel room in Florida; but we were there, nonetheless.

Tony went on. "I felt terrible after that. I realized at that moment that if I hadn't been so angry and held a grudge against you after that night at your house, you wouldn't have been in that situation. You wouldn't have had Carla on your ass, nearly killing you. But the realization became stronger, and I realized that I really could have lost you because of my anger and because I wanted to make a point. I should have just talked to you when I still had the chance and not act like a total idiot."

"This is not your fault, Tony," I told him. "It is my fault. I should never have pushed you away."

"You were scared," he tried to reason.

"That is not an excuse. I should not have been scared," I said. "I have known you for a long time now, and I should have known the way you are. I have always had trust issues and bad experiences with other men, but I trust you. I did not at that time, and I don't know why. It is my fault."

"Then I guess we're both to blame for this."

I nodded. It sounded better than dumping all the blame on me, even though I deserved it.

He looked at me for a moment before saying, "Ziva, I have something I wanna give you."

"You have something for me?"

"Yeah. Give me a second." He dug a little more through his suitcase and pulled out a small, wine red velvet box. I was at a loss for words. Was this what I was thinking it would be? No, a part of me said. It was way too soon for that. What would I say if it was what I thought it was? I suddenly felt extremely conflicted.

"When I went to Carla's house the day you snuck in, I noticed something," he said. "I never said anything, but I noticed that you were missing your Star of David necklace. And I know you wouldn't just take it off, cuz you never do, so I figured she must have taken it off you. Then I saw it on the floor, and I was going to pick it up, but other things got in the way of that, and I never got to get it back." He opened the box and, sure enough, there was a Star of David pendant in there. It was gold and exactly the same as the ones I had before.

I let out a gasp, not expecting that.

"I went to this jewelry store, and there was only one more of these necklaces left. So I bought it. I thought you would want to have one again. I know it's special to you, so I thought I would get it for you."

At first, I was speechless. I wanted to thank him, but those two little words did not even seem to be enough. Still, I knew I had to say it. "Tony… thank you so much." He motioned for me to turn around so he could put the pendant on me. I did so and pushed my hair out of the way. He put the pendant around my neck and clasped it on.

"No need to thank," he said as he planted a small kiss on my shoulder. "You deserve it."

"You were the guy," I said.

"What?"

"I went to the jewelry store to buy one, and the guy that worked there said that he had only one pendant left, but that someone else had bought it earlier in the week. He said a tall, white man with a suit bought it. I had no idea it was you."

"Did he say the man was handsome? 'Cause then it really would have been me."

I turned around once again to face him. "Really, Tony, thank you. I appreciate it. And I love it."

"You're welcome, ninja girl. I'm glad you like it." He leaned closer to me and pressed his lips against my own. I moved up against him, cupping his face in between my hands. His lips were soft and smooth, but the kiss was short-lived, as I moved on to the next best thing.

"I want to give this a shot," I said, still holding him close against me.

"Give what a shot?"

"_This_," I said. "Us. Forget rule twelve. Forget what Gibbs thinks about anything. We will never know how it will turn out if we do not try. Just because it probably did not work out for Gibbs does not mean it will not work out for the two of us. I want to be with you, Tony. I love you, and I am willing to give this a chance. If you are," I added.

He never looked hesitant. He never had an uncertain look on his face. He nodded his head. "I want to give this a chance," he answered certainly. "I love you, too."

Soon after, we shut the lights off in the room. It became dark and quiet; the only things that could be heard were the shuffling of our bare feet against the rug and the slight creak of the bed as we climbed in under the covers. I settled myself on the right hand side of the bed. Tony slipped in next to me, closing the distance between us as he put his arms around my waist and pulled me towards him. As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dark, I put my hand over his chest. He put his hand over mine and, grasping it lightly, said, "What's on your mind, Zee?"

"Nothing. Just that I love you."

He leaned forward and gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. I nearly melted before him. "I love you more, sweetcheeks."


	19. Uptight

Hey everyone, sorry for the late update.

These last few chapters have been a real big poopie to write. I've come to realize that I hate writing Florida. Also, real life has been getting in the way, and I've been a little busier lately than I'd like to be. I'm flunking my history class big time, and I need to take care of that before I move on to anything else (not that I _want_ to; I just _have_ to). I only have one test and one more writing assignment before I'm done with the class, and I really can't flunk it. So, I just wanted to let everyone know to expect some delayed updates until classes are over.

Anyway, any thoughts on Monique from Tuesday's ep, anyone? I'm seriously considering throwing her into the mix, but I don't know. What do you guys think of her?

…..

:: Chapter 19 – Uptight ::

Abby had an uncanny way of having impeccable timing, from a sarcastic point of view, of course. When I woke up the next morning, it was eleven in the morning, although I had no idea what time it was at the moment. Tony was sleeping soundly right beside me. His arms were wrapped securely around my waist, his face buried into my hair, nuzzling my neck. Not wanting to wake him up, I tried not to move too much when I opened my eyes, but I nearly had a heart attack when I saw that Abby was in the room trying to take a picture of us.

That, in itself, was not the problem. I did not mind that she wanted to take a picture of us, however sneaky she was trying to be and, ultimately, failing at it. She was likely to get the hint that something was going on between me and Tony sometime throughout the trip. But what horrified me was that she was using my yellow camera.

Immediately, I sprung up out of bed, waking Tony up as I did. She had already managed to take one picture, but she took one good look at it and frowned.

"Abby, what the hell are you doing?" I said as I ran up to her, stepping over my suitcase and trying to keep my balance, no longer feeling sleepy. There were no traces of sleep in my voice.

"Sorry, Ziva," she said, giggling. "I was trying to get a picture of you and Tony. You guys looked so cute sleeping together. I just had to." She took a good look at the picture she had snapped, but her face contorted soon after. "What the hell?"

I took the camera away from her and looked at the picture. It was not at all what she had just snapped. So, okay, in it was the same hotel room we were in, with everything exactly as it was in the room, save for the suitcases and carry-on bags lying around. I had somehow disappeared from the picture, and it was only Tony on the bed. The sky outside the window, despite it still being relatively early in the morning, was dark in the picture. I had no idea what it could mean.

"Ziva, I think your camera's broken…" Abby said uncertainly.

Tony had finally joined us and was standing behind me, looking at the picture. I could just tell he had no idea what to think. I had no idea what to tell her.

"I don't think I like this camera anymore. It's weird," she said.

Thankfully, Tony stepped in and tried to help. "It's a joke, Abby."

"What do you mean a joke?"

"We programmed it to do that."

Abby snorted. "You? Programming something? Maybe this really is a _joke_."

Tony scowled at her. "Believe it or not, McNerd isn't the only person on the planet who can program something," he said. "Ziva and I just so happened to find a way to program this camera to go to another picture once you take one."

"But it was in this hotel room."

"Ever heard of Photoshop?"

Abby glared at us, and I was surprised when she smiled – sardonic it was, but a smile, nonetheless. "Do you guys think I'm stupid?" she said. "I've seen something like this before. You can't fool me."

I felt even more alert, if that was possible. "You have seen this before?" I asked incredulously. "What do you mean? Where?"

She looked at me like she was about to laugh. "Chillax, Ziva," she said. "Actually, now that I think about it, it might have been a dream. Yeah, it was definitely a dream. Really weird dream, too. I wrote it down somewhere. I was thinking about writing a story about it, but I never got to it. Work can keep us so busy sometimes, you know?"

"Tell me about your dream," I prodded her. "When did you have it?"

"Why are you suddenly so obsessed with this dream of mine?" She glanced from me to Tony. "Tony, I think you've brainwashed her with more of those dumb movies you like to watch."

"Yeah, I have," he lied. "She's become quite addicted to anything supernatural-ish-themed. Needless to say, she really wants to hear about that dream. I would tell her if I were you. Just sayin'."

Abby furrowed her brows and then began her short story. "It was that time I was in the hospital – after you and Ziva left for the night. I fell asleep not too long after that. I didn't wake up till like two in the morning then, but that entire night, I was having a really weird dream. I was dreaming that I kept finding a camera that would show me pictures of things that happened before they happened. It was really freaky. But then I found out that it was just a prank by this guy. I didn't know him; it was just a stranger. Probably doesn't exist anyway. Haven't you ever had those dreams where you see people that don't exist? It's kinda freaky, right?"

"Yeah… freaky, indeed," Tony said.

"I almost forgot," Abby said. "I kept seeing a number repeatedly throughout the dream. When I woke up, I still remembered the number, so I saved it to my drafts in my phone."

"A number? Do you know what it was for?" I asked her.

"I don't know; I never bothered with it again. It was a lot of numbers. I could show it to you later if you want."

"Sure…"

"Okay. Anyway, we're going to the mall today."

"The mall?" Tony asked unenthusiastically. "Really? The mall?"

"Yeah. I woke up early and spoke to Kyle. You guys don't have to tag along if you don't want to, but since neither one of you know your way around West Palm Beach, it'd be better if you came with us." There was a pause until she spoke again. "Plus, I really want you guys to go cuz I don't want to go alone. I mean, you know, I won't be alone, since Kyle and Vince and Penny are gonna be there, but still, I feel comfortable around you guys, so if you guys could come, I will love you _forever!_"

"Who're Vince and Penny?" Tony asked.

"They're my biological parents."

"Why don't you ever tell me anything, Abby?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, Tony, get over it already. I'm gonna take a shower first. I'll be out in a few." She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Tony and I standing there alone. Neither one of us spoke until we heard the shower running.

"Tony, this cannot be a coincidence." I turned to him.

"Come on," he said. "You don't think that maybe it could have been a small coincidence that Abby had a dream about something that _just so happens_ to be reality?"

"Do not tell me you believe this is a coincidence."

"No, I don't."

I sighed and looked at the picture again. Nothing, as I knew it would, but still hoped otherwise, had changed. I was deathly curious to know what those numbers Abby had seen were. It only led me to sneak into the small bathroom to take her phone out. Thankfully, she did not hear me, but that was probably because she was singing way too loudly (and too happily for the way she was upset the day before) to hear anything besides her own voice. I was quiet and felt sneaky, almost Tony-like for invading her privacy. But I was curious, and I had to know, so I did.

The first three numbers were quickly recognized by Tony as DC's area code. We knew then that it was a phone number, but not one either one of us recognized. When I was done copying the number into my own phone, I snuck the phone back into the bathroom so that Abby would not suspect anything. She never did, and she never even remembered that I had wanted to know about the numbers she had seen. When all three of us were done taking showers, we left the room and headed to the parking lot.

Although she brushed it off as though it was nothing and a normal everyday thing, Abby was dressed normal. Her hair was tied back into a single, high ponytail. Instead of her platform boots, she wore white sandals. She had a lightweight, light pink t-shirt on and a pair of light blue, jean-style shorts that reached just above her knees. She looked like she was either taking advantage of the warm Florida weather or seriously losing it. I did not want to stare, but I could not help myself. It was so un-Abby-like.

Tony was staring, too, but he said nothing. The next thing he actually said was after all three of us got in the car.

"Where are we going, Abby?" he asked. I was in the passenger seat, and Abby was in the backseat.

"To Vince and Penny's house," she said as she slipped on her shades.

"Umm… where's that?"

"I remember the way," I told him. He only nodded before we both stole a small glance at Abby in the back. She was stoic and still, and for a moment, it looked like she was a person who had been embalmed, just sitting there, not moving. I knew Tony was uncomfortable, and I was, too. I could not, for the life of me, figure out why Abby was just so moody lately. I had my theory, but somehow, it did not cut it. There had to be more to it than any of us knew. I had yet to have a long, girl talk with her about things.

The only reason there was talking of any sort going on in the car was because I was telling Tony how to get to Abby's parents' house. It did not take us long to get there, and when we did, Abby was the first to get out of the car to go up to the front door. Tony and I stayed back. I would have thought it dangerous to let her go alone – where anything could have happened – but, luckily, Kyle's car was there, so I knew he was inside, too.

"Why do you think Abby's dressed so normal today?" I asked Tony once he shut off the car.

"I don't know. I've never seen her dressed like that. The only time she looks normal is when she's going to sleep, but I don't think that really counts."

"Is it terrible to want to go back home just so that we would not have to deal with her anymore?"

"Yeah, kinda."

"Why?"

"_Because_ – we're in Florida! Warm weather, sweetheart. With our job, this is practically a rarity. We should enjoy our time here. Without Gibbs and away from work. I already feel relaxed and stress-free."

I did not.

"Well, we should go inside. I hope that Abby is not killing her parents, for her own sake," I said.

"Wait a minute." Tony stopped me as I began to open the door to get out. "Ziva."

I looked at him. "What?"

"I know you're not really relaxed," he said.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't." Yes, I did.

"You can't stop thinking about the picture we saw," he said. We both knew that he could read me like an open book. It did not matter if I tried to deny it a million times after that. It was true. My mind was still on that picture. I could not help but wonder what it meant. It worried me. I had to try and hide it for several different reasons, but there was really no getting past Tony. Not when he knew me so well. "I know you, Ziva," he went on. "It's written all over your face. You're worried about it."

For a moment, I thought about denying it. I had no idea what came over me on that very moment that I actually thought I could deny it and get away with it, but I did not. Instead, I settled with telling him what was on my mind. It was the better option anyway. "I am just bothered by it. I do not know what it means…"

"Neither do I," he said.

"What if it's something bad?"

"Like what bad?"

I shrugged. "Something… bad."

He shrugged, too. "I don't know, Ziva. It doesn't necessarily mean something bad is going to happen. It could be nothing at all." We both knew that was not the case. It never was. Something always happened, whether it was good or bad. "But for the sake of your sanity, could you please try to push that thought aside and try to enjoy the rest of your time here in Florida?"

I nodded. I would try – because he asked me to – but I could not guarantee that I would succeed in that. Still, I would try. Besides, we were in Florida. We were away from Gibbs and work and everything else. And he was right; with our job, it was almost rare to have a small "vacation" like this.

"Thank you," he said, sounding satisfied. We got out of the car. I walked up to him, but before we began to make our way to the house, he put his arms around me and kissed the side of my head. "I appreciate you telling me this, sweetcheeks. I know it's hard for you to open up to people sometimes, so thanks. And we really should go inside now. We don't know for sure that Abby hasn't murdered someone in there."

I was relieved to know that Abby had not murdered anyone. It was silly when I really thought of it – more so because I knew she would not ever go that far – but with her moodiness, it was best to be precautious. Tony and I went in through the front door, which was unlocked because everyone was waiting for us. Abby was in the kitchen with Penny. Kyle was talking to his dad in the living room, so I introduced Tony to them. I left him there to talk with them and went to the kitchen to join Abby and Penny.

Obviously, I was not expecting Penny to be dead on the floor with blood pooling around her and a knife sticking out of her chest. I _knew_ that. But I could not help but wonder if I was going to be greeted with death once I stepped into the kitchen. To my utmost surprise, she was making something to eat with Abby. I had to stop and take it in for a moment.

"Hello, Ziva," Penny greeted me. "Abby and I are making brunch. I heard that you guys haven't had any breakfast. You can join us if you'd like."

I hesitated for a moment. The moment was almost perfect (minus me standing there like an idiot), just the two of them doing something together. Even if they had just met, it was an oddly sweet mother and daughter moment, especially since Abby was calm. But I was still hesitant because I did not want to ruin anything. They turned to look at me when I did not give an answer right away.

"Ziva?" Abby said as she stopped what she was doing.

"Are you alright, dear?" Penny asked me.

"Yes, I am fine," I told them. "I will help you out if you want."

"Sure," Penny smiled. "We're making sandwiches. Nobody leaves this place until everyone has eaten."

She asked Abby to take out more ingredients from the refrigerator, and without arguing, she did so. I really wanted to step aside and watch them work, but I knew it would have been terribly awkward if I had just stepped outside after agreeing to help them out. I stayed and helped them with whatever they asked, but I worked in silence. Abby was doing really well, but she still had a long way to go. She was not freaking out like the day before, but she was very gradually opening up and becoming comfortable. It would be a slow, learning process, but I knew she could get there.

From my spot in the kitchen, I could see the guys. Tony seemed to be getting along with them. Vince was talking, and I was left thinking that the man reminded me of Gibbs in a way. He was a man of few words. It had only been my second day seeing him, but after yesterday, I just figured he was a quiet man that did not like to speak unless he had to. I wondered how he would ever get along with Tony, who had a hard time shutting up more often than not and talked about movies way more than a normal human being did.

I remembered he and Penny had not been introduced, but that was going to have to wait.

Abby was explaining a little bit of what she did at NCIS to Penny who was listening intently to her. I was able to catch small parts of their conversation, but I was mostly listening to Tony quote several movies to Kyle and Vince. At one point, Vince began to look annoyed – not to Gibbs's extent, but a little annoyed, nonetheless. Kyle looked like he was putting up with Tony's babbling because he had no other choice. I felt like I needed to intervene, so I did.

I stepped out of the kitchen and said that excuse me, but I needed to borrow Tony for a moment. Neither one of them protested. I was not expecting them to anyway. They both turned their attention to the TV. I slipped my arm into Tony's and led him into the kitchen, thankful that he did not protest at all. Penny and Abby noticed him and turned around to face him. I introduced him and Penny to each other.

"DiNozzo, huh?" Penny said. "That's an Italian name, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"How nice. So, Ziva," she turned to me, "is he your boyfriend?"

Behind her, Abby smiled as though an inappropriate question had been asked. She blushed a little. Tony and I glanced at each other, our arms still linked together. I answered proudly, much to Abby's surprise, "Yes, he is."

* * *

><p>After a bit of a tension-filled moment where we sat down and ate and watched re-runs of <em>The Golden Girls<em>, we were off to the mall. Penny said it was called the Wellington Green Mall, mostly referred to as merely the Wellington Mall, and that it would take us about twenty-five minutes to drive over there. Abby went with Kyle and her parents in the car, and Tony and I went in the rented car. The small alone time was nice.

Abby kept sending me texts that read: _When were you gonna tell me you and Tony (finally) got together!_ I did not answer them. She sent me a few before she realized that I was not going to answer her, prompting her to stop.

"We're in Florida, and we're going to the mall," Tony complained. "Of all places – the _mall._ Do people actually consider that _fun?_"

"Well, Tony, maybe if we're lucky, we can escape and drive around until we find a beach. It should not be that hard to find one. It is Florida, anyway," I said. "And besides, while we are here, you can find something for McGee. I think you owed him something."

"Oh. Yeah." I knew he had not really forgotten that little detail. "What do you think he would like?"

"You do not know what McGee might like?"

"Books?" he guessed.

That was to say that he had been working with the man for a long time – unless, of course, he was playing dumb.

"Well, I don't have to get McGee something he might want, you know. I could just get him some souvenirs. Like a keychain or a mug or something like that. Do you think he'll like a Hooters t-shirt?"

Perhaps if he was single, which he was not.

We were about two minutes behind by the time we arrived at the mall's parking lot. The other four were waiting for us, some looking as if they had been waiting for us for hours. We were lucky enough to find that the parking space next to them had been empty. When we got out of the car, Abby nearly attacked me in what could have been confused as a hug, but was not one really.

"Why haven't you been answering my texts?" she said.

By that time, everyone was already making a head start to the entrance of the mall. Only she, who had me pressed up against the rented car, and Tony and I were left standing there.

I shrugged. "I was talking to Tony about something important." I was not going to say that I did not feel like answering her.

"Right," she said. "So when were you going to tell me that you two finally got together? I mean, it's about damn time, but, really, were you going to leave me out of the loop on this one?"

"Eventually we would have told you," I said to her. "But now that you know about us, you have to tell Tony about…"

"About what?"

"About…" I was hoping she would get the hint, but she did not.

"_About…_"

"About you and…"

"Me and who?"

I rolled my eyes. "For the love of God, Abby, about you and McGee!"

"You and McGee?" Tony asked incredulously. "Seriously?"

"It was not obvious to you, Tony?" I asked him.

"Well, yeah, it was, but… she never tells me anything! I feel so left out!"

"I won't tell Gibbs," Abby said. "I promise. Just as long as you don't tell him about me and McGee. We'll just keep it a secret among the four of us. Deal?"

Tony turned to me. "What happened to who cares about rule twelve and what Gibbs thinks?"

I looked at him. "That still applies," I said, shrugging. "But Gibbs does not need to know about any of this."

"I agree," Abby said. "It'll be our little secret."

"Yeah, you're not kidding about the secret part," Tony scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

(-/-)

For a moment, I was worried that Tony would max out his credit card. At first, we had gone to the first store with Abby and the family. Kyle and his father decided that they needed new clothes, so they went off to another section, leaving Abby and Penny together to look for some new clothes. Much to Tony's dismay, we had accompanied them. I had to admit that the way they were slowly bonding was sweet. Seeing Abby calm and collected and not completely hating this woman who happened to be her biological mother was nice. When all was well and looked like it would continue to be well, we left, leaving them alone. I asked Tony what he wanted to do first, and he said he wanted to get ice cream.

There was an ice cream kiosk near a furniture store, where he insisted on going first. He bought some ice cream for the both of us, which I thanked him for. After we ate our ice cream, he bought some more for himself. But that was not the only thing he bought. If he was thirsty, he would get something from a vending machine. He bought several other snacks from other kiosks. It was driving me crazy, hence why I thought he would max out his credit card.

"Now that we are here, why don't you buy something for McGee?" I said.

He suggested we go to the nearest girl store and buy him some clothes from there.

"I'm sure he would love a pink tank top. It's definitely his style. He and Abby can take turns using it."

Not surprisingly enough, we did enter some girl stores, but that was because Tony felt like pulling down the tank tops and t-shirts of the mannequins to expose their plastic breasts. He liked seeing the frustrated employees have to come back to the mannequin to straighten out the article of clothing to where it had originally been. He asked me if I had ever done anything like that when I was in Israel. I said no. I was too busy killing the snakes that got into my house. (I was only kidding about that part.)

"I think I should get McGee that pink tank top. Just to bother him."

"Tell me that is not the only thing you are going to get him."

"No, it's not. But it will be funny to see his reaction when he sees this."

He really did buy it. He said he would not tell Abby about it because she would get uptight about something like that, especially with her constant mood swings. We never knew what we would wake up to anymore. I told him I would not tell Abby either and that if anything, I would just say that the tank top was mine. I figured she really _would_ start bitching about it, even if it was just a joke.

Tony hated the mall, as he felt the need to express a few times during our time there, but it was probably the most fun he ever had in a mall. He did not go often – the only times being that he really needed a new shirt for work or something like that – but he still hated it. I was not a huge fan of the mall myself, but I did enjoy it every once in a while. I could not be able to go every week for fun, however. That would be anything but fun. But, like Tony, it was probably the most fun I ever had in a mall as well.

We went to other stores, aside from clothing stores, where Tony spent a ridiculously long amount of time trying to figure out what to get for McGee. On the outside, he would be joking around about how he would get him the dumbest things ever, but I could tell he did not want to disappoint. I did not bring that up, and neither did he, but I knew he was thinking it. Instead, in stores like Radio Shack and the like, I steered clear of the cameras. I did not even want to look at one. They bothered me, as silly as it sounded.

When we were done with that, Tony wanted to get a pretzel and a slushy. He did. I had to wonder how much more he could take. Neither one of us wanted to go back to Abby and the family, as surprising as that sounded, so we did everything else we could think of.

We rode the electrical stairs up and down, even trying to walk in the opposite direction it was going in. We rode the elevators up and down, creeping people out in the process. Tony tried to sneak some snacks out of vending machines, nearly getting his arm stuck in one of them. I had to help him out of it, which took some time since I was nearly doubled over in laughter. He laughed because I was laughing, but, he said, the situation was not funny. When we got his arm out, he tried to get a bag of cookies from the vending machine, but the vending machine was not working properly, so it sucked in his dollar.

"This stupid machine stole my dollar!" he yelled and kicked it on the side.

I had no way of knowing just how many times he kicked the vending machine because I was laughing too hard. Before I knew it, a security man was coming over, asking us what the problem was. I had to walk away because at that point, I was crying from laughing so hard. The bathroom was close by, and I went in, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My face was red from all the laughing.

I hid in a stall to cool down a bit, thankful that the bathroom was relatively empty. But when I was about to leave, I was surprised to see Tony coming in.

"Did you get your dollar back?" I asked him with a smile on my face.

"Yeah," he said. "But I didn't get the cookies that I wanted."

"You need to cool it," I told him. "You have already eaten something from every kiosk in the mall."

"Funny," he said dryly. I was ready to leave, but he was not. He led us into a small stall, where we made out for a good while. We would have taken it further, but my phone began to ring, sounding loudly in the small space. Abby was calling me. I answered it.

"What, Abby?" I snapped into the phone.

"Uhh, just wondering where you guys are. We're ready to leave. We're by the food court entrance," she said.

"Fine. We'll be there in a few," I said and hung up.

Tony pouted. "Aww, we have to leave already?"

I looked at him as I slipped the phone back into my pocket. "I promise we will continue this later."

"Pinky swear?" He held out his pinky for me to take.

I was not used to seeing him propose a pinky swear to anything. That was usually something Abby did, and in rare occasions, maybe even McGee. I had never understood what it was or what it meant until they explained it to me. I wrapped my smaller pinky finger around his and, planting a kiss on his lips, said, "Pinky swear."

* * *

><p>The rest of the day was spent at Vince and Penny's house. By five o' clock, Kyle left because he was staying over at another relative's house, although I had no idea if he did so intentionally or not. Vince, the man of few words, actually talked a little bit more. He still was not much of a talker, even with all the talking he was doing. While Abby helped her mother prepare dinner in the kitchen, Tony and I sat on the couch, with Vince across from us, listening to a story about how Abby's paternal grandfather, whom she obviously never met, was seven feet tall and once helped save a cat from a tree by just standing on his tip toes.<p>

I did not believe a word of it. I could not tell if he was doing it for the dry humor of it or if he simply felt like telling us ridiculous stories.

When that story was done with, he went on with another one about a man who took a trip to Ireland and met a woman, who was also visiting Ireland, and to whom he showed the "pot of gold at the end of his rainbow." He then mentioned that that was the story of how his parents met. I really could have done without the images of this man's father showing his then soon-to-be wife his pot of gold and putting it to good use, but luckily, Penny overheard the conversation and called him out.

"Vince," she called from the kitchen, "stop telling our guests that story, please. I swear, he does this all the time!"

Abby was visibly laughing. Beside me, Tony was shaking from laughing inwardly. I felt like we were listening to Ducky tell R-rated stories. It was quite funny, but disturbing.

"Oh, Penny, they know what I'm talking about. They're not little kids," he defended himself. "They probably did it in their hotel room already."

"Vince!"

"What?" he said innocently.

"Stop!"

He turned to us. "If you think that's bad, you won't believe what happened one day between Penny and I in Vancouver."

Penny stormed out of the kitchen. She did not look mad, but she looked irritated. "Honey, come help me in the kitchen, please?" she said patiently. Vince shrugged and went in, joining Abby in whatever she was doing. Penny turned to us. "I'm so sorry about my husband," she said apologetically. "He does this all the time. He's pretty blunt, to say the least. Usually, our guests become really uncomfortable when he starts to tell _those_ kinds of stories. I hope you're not offended."

"It's okay," Tony said. "Nothing I haven't heard before."

Penny's eyes widened. "Don't tell me he already told you the Vancouver story."

Tony furrowed his brows. "No. I mean that–"

She understood. "Oh," she said with a quick nod. "I get it. Well, again, I'm sorry about that. Dinner will be ready shortly." She walked back into the kitchen.

I took Tony's hand in mine as he turned to look at me. We both started laughing, but we were being quiet so that no one in the kitchen could hear us. We could faintly hear Penny and Vince discussing what had just happened, and Abby was occasionally throwing glances at us, trying hard not to laugh in their faces. I gave Tony a quick kiss on the lips before we were called in to eat.

On the ride back to the hotel, I drove. It was around eight when we left. Abby was tired. Tony felt too full to drive. Neither one was keen to the idea of me driving, but they looked like they could barely form a coherent thought, so they were forced to deal with it. We got there fast, anyway. As soon as we got to the hotel room, Abby pulled out the sofa-bed and threw herself on it. She fell asleep instantly.

"I'm gonna lie down in bed for a while," Tony said. "I'll take a shower later."

I followed him to the small room. The bed was made, but we got in anyway. I snuggled up beside him and watched him fall asleep. I stroked his face gently as he evidently began to lose the fight against sleep. It was something my mother used to do to me and my sister when we were little and she wanted us to go to sleep. Tony asked me what I was doing, but I did not answer him. I knew that if I answered him, he would begin to talk back and not want to fall asleep. He was asleep in no time. I stayed there for a few more minutes, until I decided to take a shower. I carefully pulled away from him and got out of bed. He did not stir, and I knew that he was completely out of it.

I gathered a pajama set, a towel, and even the camera before I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I turned on the shower and let it run for a while. I pulled down the toilet seat and sat down. I turned the camera on and looked at the picture that had shown up hours earlier. Tony was still on the bed, I was gone, and it was still dark outside the windows. I still had no idea what it could mean.

There was no doubt that we all had a good day that day. But even so, my mind had been drifting off to that picture almost the entire time. I did not want to worry Tony, much less have Abby figure out that we definitely never programmed a camera to do anything, so I reminded quiet. But, I figured, they were both out like a light, so I could use the alone time to think.

I closed the lid of the drain in the bathtub, allowing the water to slowly build up. I removed my clothes and got in, not really bothering with closing the curtain the entire way. I sat down on the bathtub floor when an idea suddenly hit me. I took the camera and dropped it into the water. I let it float around for a little bit and then picked it up again. It would not turn on after that, which I was glad about.

I dropped the camera once again in the tub and threw my head back against the wall. I was not entirely sure if doing what I did was a good thing or a bad thing. I was not even sure what I was supposed to think after that.


	20. Intensity

Chapter twenty! Awesome beans! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around for so long! I think we are now halfway through the story. Anyway, this chapter is a bit PG-13 around the edges, but nothing graphic. Enjoy as always, and please review?

…..

:: Chapter 20 – Intensity ::

Albeit I had some alone time to think, I fell asleep anyway. I was out for about an hour, or so I was told. I woke up because there was a knock on the bathroom door. When I shifted in my spot, water spilled out of the tub, creating a small flood on the bathroom floor – and there was already a small flood to begin with.

I moved carefully up to the drain and undid the lid so that the water would go down. I turned the shower off and stepped out of the tub. I wrapped a towel around my body and opened the door a crack. It was Tony, not surprisingly. He began to speak, but I cut him off, motioning for him to come inside. He did, and I closed the door behind us. I would have said that because we were in such a small space, we were uncomfortable, but we were so close that I could not complain about it.

"Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?" I asked.

"Weren't you supposed to be next to me?" he asked back.

"I was going to take a shower."

"Well, did you?"

"No."

He grinned. "Then why are you wet, and why do you have a towel around you?"

"I fell asleep."

He was about to say something else – or at least he looked like he was about to say something else, but something caught his attention. In the small space, he neared the tub and, reaching in, grabbed the camera that I had dropped in the water. He sat down against the tub and tried turning it on. For some reason, I was expecting it to turn on and do what it always did, but it did not. He was silent as I sat down beside him with my back against the tub, still holding the towel around myself.

"You dropped it in water?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I thought maybe…" I trailed off. It sounded perfectly reasonable in my head, but I was sure that the moment I said it out loud, it would sound rather pathetic.

"Thought maybe what?"

"I thought maybe everything would go away if I ruined it."

He looked at me and then laughed a little. I felt stupid, but I did not say anything. "Well, I wouldn't want to anger the gods," he said. I stared at him. "Okay, okay, bad joke. But, Zee, you more than anyone should know that things like _this _don't just disappear so easily. Think of it a case, kinda. When we go to a crime scene and one day later, we've found our killer – things are just too good to be true."

"So what you are trying to say is that in order to stop these weird pictures from happening, we should fight the gods to death?" I said sarcastically. "I don't know if you've noticed, Tony, but things like this do not exactly happen on a regular basis."

He paused for a moment before asking, "You think someone's behind this?"

"Maybe Aphrodite," I said. "In Greek Mythology, she was the goddess of love. Maybe Gibbs – you know him; he has more connections than you and I ever will in our entire lifetime combined – didn't want us to be together, so he sent her to use this to tear us apart. Aside from having connections, he also has a sixth sense."

Tony's face was stoic. I was expecting him to go along with the joke, since he always did, but I was surprised that he remained so serious, almost as if he had been bothered by it. "Alright, Ziva, you can cut the jokes. I'm being serious."

So was I. I was also being sarcastic. I knew he caught on to _that_ one.

"You really think someone's behind this?" he asked.

I shrugged slowly. "I think that Abby's dream has something to do with this. That phone number we saw – I should call and see who answers."

"We don't know who it belongs to."

"Which is why we should call and see who answers."

"How about we ask McGee to trace it for us?"

"Now?"

He rolled his eyes. "When we get back to DC, Ziva."

"That's not until Wednesday."

"Thursday," he said.

"We go back on Wednesday."

"I know that. But I'm not going to work that Wednesday. I'll be taking that day to rest. I'll be back to work on Thursday. You should, too."

I shrugged again.

"You're not gonna call that phone number now, are you? I mean, like, during this trip?"

"You do not think I should?"

He answered back with, "You don't think you should try and enjoy the few days we have left in Florida without thinking about the camera and Abby's weird dream?"

"It is only Friday, Tony."

"Hey, time flies," he chuckled half-heartedly. "Before you know it, we're going to be at another crime scene." He waved the camera in my face and shrugged. "Throw it away."

"What?" I said.

"Just throw it away," he said. "It's not working anymore. Throw it away some place where Abby won't see it. If she sees it, she'll be asking you why you would throw away a supposedly perfectly good camera. You don't wanna tell her what this really does and that we lied to her." He shrugged again. "So just throw it away."

I did not have the best feeling about that, but I figured it could not hurt – not anymore than it already had.

There was a moment of silence before Tony said, "It might make you feel better."

"What would?" I asked him.

"Throwing it away."

"How exactly would that make me feel better?"

"You won't have to worry about it much if it's gone, right?"

He could have been right. I said yes anyway, not entirely convinced with my own answer. I knew he was not convinced either, but he did not say anything about it after that. I would just throw the camera away later and get that over with. The conversation took another turn, but it was a very short one. I asked him if Abby was still asleep, and he said she was still out cold and that she would probably be out for the entire night. That was the end of our very short talk because the next thing both of us knew, he was attacking my neck with his mouth, and I was stripping him of his clothes, having already tossed my towel to the side.

We stepped into the shower, where he closed the curtain and turned the shower back on so that the sound of the water running would drown out our own sounds. He pinned me against the wall, and I could feel myself pounding in excitement. Abby could have been in a coma outside the bathroom, and even then, she probably would have still been able to hear me being loud.

As Tony positioned himself against my entrance, teasing me seemingly endlessly while he was at it, he told me to be as quiet as I possibly could, because we really did not want to wake Abby. At that point, I was entirely at his mercy and willing to do anything he asked of me, even if I knew that being quiet was going to be a nearly impossible task. The smirk on his face told me that he was not going to make keeping quiet any easier for me. He was not going to be gentle either. He reminded me once again to be quiet before he slammed into me, eliciting a response from me in the form of a harsh gasp.

Being quiet had never been more worth it in my entire life.

* * *

><p>Saturday morning came by, and with it, Tony decided to go downstairs to get breakfast. We were all dressed and ready to leave to go somewhere, but we had decided we wanted to eat first. Abby asked him to get us something and bring it up to our room while he was getting breakfast. It was a little weird to me. I was surprised that she did not want to tag along. However, I quickly learned the reason for that, and I wondered why I did not volunteer to tag alongside Tony in the first place.<p>

She was the one to speak first the moment the door closed behind Tony when he left. "You had sex with him," she said.

Leave it to me to have been drinking something that very moment she chose to say that. Leave it to me to have nearly _choked _a little after she said that, as if things could not possibly go more downhill from there. "Excuse me?" was my dull response.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "You had _really_ good sex with him."

"What are you talking about?" It was not my best comeback, but not entirely the worst either. It definitely beat asking her what made her think that.

"Aww, don't be shy, Ziva!" she cooed. "There's nothing to be ashamed of! I'm happy for you and Tony!"

"Abby, what are you–"

"Wanna know how I can tell?" I was not sure I _really_ wanted to know, but she went on anyway. "You're glowing."

"I'm _what?_ I'm glowing?"

She was still beaming. "And you just used a contraction. Twice."

"No, I didn't. I've used contractions before."

"You just did it right now."

"I didn't!"

"You did it again."

"Abby, stop."

She giggled. "You guys did it for a long time, too."

My eyes went wide. I was horrified. "Oh, God. Please tell me we didn't wake you."

She shook her head. "Oh, no, you didn't wake me," she said. "I woke up sometime after we got back here. When I checked the room, you and Tony both weren't there, and the shower was running, so I knew you two were getting it on. You guys were being quiet, but I could still hear a little bit. I went back to sleep after almost two hours, and you guys were still getting it on. You must have hit the sack right after that. I can't imagine the exhaustion."

"Okay, _fine,_" I said curtly, impatiently. "So Tony and I had sex last night for a long time! So what!"

She literally could not stop smiling. I wished she would. "Oh, honey, there's nothing wrong with that," she said. "You must have like an energy tank that doesn't run out so easily. Or maybe Tony does. Okay, I don't wanna know. But seriously, it's impressive. The most Tim and I could do was a little over an hour, and I was getting sore and tired. And Tim's not as geeky in bed as he may look. The man can seriously go on for a while, and that's to say that he's really turned off by the idea of sex in a coffin…."

I put my hand up. "Okay, Abby, stop. I do not want to hear about your fun time with McGee."

She giggled again, which was followed by a gasp. "Oh, my God! Ziva, don't move."

I didn't. I remained still. I was expecting her to say that there was a creepy-crawler of some kind in my hair or something disgusting like that, but she did not. Instead, she pushed my hair to the side and practically marveled at the sight of the left side of my neck. "You have a hickey!" she squealed. "You totally have a hickey!"

I pushed away from her, already getting annoyed.

"You guys are some wild animals! I don't think I want to know what you two are gonna do when we get back home. Twenty bucks says you and Tony can't get it on for six hours straight."

I glared at her. "Twenty dollars?"

"Fifty."

"You're on."

* * *

><p>We went to Downtown West Palm Beach that day, to a place called CityPlace. There were lots of stores (everything was expensive, though), restaurants, and places for entertainment. There was even a movie theater, which Tony got excited about. No one else but him wanted to go watch a movie. He acted like he had never seen a movie theater in his life before. There was a pet shop that Abby and her mother went to, and Kyle and his dad went to the bookstore that was close by. I stayed with Tony, letting him pick whatever movie he wanted to watch.<p>

It was early February, which meant that romance movies were what all the hype was about. But Tony did not want to watch a romance movie. He instead chose a movie about a man who became king in the mid nineteenth century and went on to rape every woman in the palace where he resided and never got caught. I figured it would end like the movie _The Lovely Bones_. It sounded so boring.

And it was.

Even Tony was not enjoying the movie. Normally, I would have been well beyond shocked that he was not enjoying a movie, but I could understand. The movie continued to drag on and on, and it felt like it was getting nowhere fast. It also did not strike me as a movie that he would have liked. He liked nearly every movie on the planet, but somehow, this one just did not seem to fit him.

"This is _so_ boring," he whispered to me a little less than halfway through the movie.

"Well, you wanted to watch it," I whispered back.

"I know, but I didn't think this movie was going to suck."

I could have told him that, but it was not like he would have listened to me anyway. He knew that neither one of us could stand to sit throughout the rest of the painfully long and horribly boring movie. He tugged at my hand, looking ready to leave his seat. I looked at him and asked him what he was doing.

"Let's get out of here," he said.

"And go where?" I asked.

"You'll see."

I followed him because it was better than staying behind. I had no idea what was going on in his head, but it could not have been that bad. Still, with Tony, sometimes things were a little unpredictable. (Not on a Gibbs-like unpredictability scale, but still pretty unpredictable sometimes.) We went into the women's bathroom, which was not packed, thankfully, and went inside the big stall.

I had to sometimes briefly wonder to myself what the deal was with us always doing something in the bathroom. At work, we had our moments in the bathroom. The day Abby went to the hospital with a concussion, we also had a small moment in the bathroom. We gave ourselves to each other in the bathroom the night before (more specifically, the bathtub – but it was still in the bathroom). My mind went back to the day before at the mall where we had been making out for a while in the women's bathroom as well.

That was exactly what we were doing at that moment. But it did not stop there. In the few minutes of peace that we had, we were at it again as though we had just seen each other for the first time in years. Things only intensified, making it a bit of a challenge, when a horde of women entered the bathroom not long after that. The chatter among everyone in the bathroom was enough so that we did not have to be _as_ quiet as we had to be the night before, but we did not want to risk anyone finding out that there was a man in the women's bathroom, much less have anyone find out what we were doing.

We had to wait a good forty minutes before the chatter died down and we knew we could make a run for it. I was still in a daze-like state and told Tony that he was going to have to have a good grip on me so that I would not stumble and fall on my face. We managed to get out after that, with only about one or two women having noticed us. He had an arm around my waist as we ran out of the bathroom. My legs felt like complete noodles. I knew I had to come out of this soon.

We decided to leave after that. The moment we stepped outside the movie theater doors, we were practically doubled over in laughter. Several people were staring but it was the least of our worries. For a moment, the laughter actually helped me temporarily drown out everything that had been plaguing my mind. I loved that Tony always had a way to put a smile on my face, especially when I needed it the most.

God, I loved Florida.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Timmy; I miss you! I wish you were here! Call me back soon, please! Love you."<p>

It was noon when he called her back. Abby, Tony, the family, and I were getting lunch in a restaurant. Abby got very excited when she got a call and saw that he was the one that was calling. She answered it before the second ring. "Hi, Tim!" she said elatedly. "I miss you! I wish you were here with us!" She put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear. "You're on speaker, babe. Say hi."

"Hello," he said unenthusiastically.

"Hey, McJoyful!" Tony boomed. "I was going to call you tonight, but Abby beat me to it."

"Yeah, sure you were."

"Hmm, someone has an attitude today. What's up with you?"

"What's up with me? I'll tell you what's up with me. It's freaking Saturday and guess where I am right now." He did not give us any time to guess. "At work! That's right, at work! While you guys are over there enjoying the warm Florida weather, I'm all bundled up because it's freaking cold over here and dealing with Gibbs all by myself!"

"Just so you know, it gets kind of chilly at night over here."

"Oh, please. Eighty degrees is not chilly, Tony."

"Sixty degrees. And this, too, shall pass, McMiserable. Just hang in there."

"I hate you, Tony. I hope you got me something nice from over there, 'cause I don't think you can afford not to."

"Have you caught a lot of cases, McGee?" I asked him.

"Let's just say that I'm gonna be paperwork-free for the rest of this month, David."

Tony and I exchanged a look. It may have been Saturday, and McGee may have been stuck at work, but I knew there had to have been something else bothering him. I did not know what it was, but I planned on finding out when we got back.

Abby stepped in. I wondered if she noticed that her boyfriend was in a really bad mood, or that her parents and brother were listening to McGee not make a very good "first impression" over the phone. He sounded like a bitter man who hated everyone and everything. "Hey, Timmy, guess what?" she said. "Tony and Ziva are together. Like _together_-together!"

"Great. Should I alert the _New York Times_?"

Abby took the phone off speaker and continued her conversation.

"That her boyfriend?" Vince asked us.

"Yeah," Tony and I said in unison.

"Do we wanna meet him?"

"Depends," Tony said. "You willing to sit through hours of nonstop talking about the joys of setting up a firewall?"

"A what?"

Tony shook his head slightly. "No, you don't wanna meet him."

McGee did not actually tell Abby why he was in such a bad mood, particularly towards me and Tony. He was alright with her, and she just covered it up by saying that he missed us. He missed having someone taunting him, threatening him, and kissing him. While all that may have been particularly true, I still felt there was something else bothering him that he was not saying. But I had no way of knowing what it was. I would not know what it was until we got back.

When the sun was beginning to set, and we were all back in our hotel room, we decided to go to the pool. There were several people around, but it was not packed to the point where we could not be there. I had no plans to get in, even if the water was a little tempting. I only dipped my feet in, but of course, Abby and Tony joined forces to push me into the pool – something I should have seen coming, but did not really.

"You two are so gonna pay for that!" I said, laughing. I rubbed my eyes until they felt comfortable enough for me to open them again.

Tony swam over to me and put his arms around my waist, pulling me closer against him. "I can't wait to see what punishment you have for me," he said lowly. He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the lips, but pulled back before I had time to return it.

"Wait!" Abby yelled. "That was awesome! Let me get my phone!"

I thought she wanted to record me getting pushed into the pool again, but that was not what she wanted. She said she loved the way Tony kissed me and the way the background setting somehow complimented such a sweet moment. She asked him to kiss me again so that she could take a picture. When she got her phone ready, I put my arms around his neck as his were still around my waist, and he kissed me. We held the stance as she snapped a picture of us.

"I love it," she said as she looked at it. "I think I'm going to hang this one up on my wall at home. It's perfect."


	21. Special Delivery

Once again, I'd like to thank everyone who's made it this far – especially: **sammys1208, WritingFromTheSoul, ncisXpsych12345, Miss Suave, KokoTheBeast, smileanyway142, MegpieLovesTiva, conservativegirl, mprmusings, Robern, craftygirl11, **and** easylion **for reviewing often. You guys rock :)

Anyway, finals week is tomorrow and after that, I'll have more time to update (until summer classes start D:). So I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and leave a review if you can. Seriously though, I've been having the worst freakin month ever, and I'm seriously ready to give up on everything, so I could use a little bit of encouragement from you guys. Thanks(:

…..

:: Chapter 21 – Special Delivery ::

Everything was going well with the three of them – until they asked her about her adoptive parents. That was when she snapped at them, and eventually, just _snapped_. It began in the midst of a normal conversation, in which she was laughing with them and clearly becoming more comfortable around them. Her mother had discreetly thrown the question in there, knowing that the topic would have been a little sensitive, hence why she was being so careful with it. Abby said she did not want to talk about it, but she was a little rude about the whole thing. It only got worse from there. And every time, I continued to tell myself that I did not want to be around them anymore. It was Sunday, we were still in Florida, and there were only a few more days left before we had to go back to DC. I continued to stick around.

That, however, did not mean that they stopped talking altogether. They continued to talk; they just avoided that subject. Penny seemed to be getting the hang of what to say and what not to say to Abby after that. After all, she was being extremely moody, and everyone had to be careful with what was said. There was a bit of tension after that, but nothing like their first meeting.

On the last few days, Tony and I tried to steer clear a little from Abby's family, and I threw away the camera when no one else was paying attention. We wanted to try to make the best of our last vacation days before we went back to DC to be buried under paperwork for what would feel like an endless amount of time. We went to the beach on Monday morning, followed by a restaurant, but if we were feeling lazy, we would stay in the hotel room, and, yes, that involved us having sex when Abby was not around.

On Tuesday, we went to the zoo. Really, I did not want to go to the zoo at all, but Abby was excited about it. She loved animals. It was like taking a little girl to the zoo. She was dressed with her pigtails and platform boots and short skirts, which only earned her stares. But she was too busy taking pictures of the animals to care about the weird looks she was getting.

It was not until Tuesday, when we were having dinner with Vince and Penny, that Abby actually said something about her adoptive parents. She started with her mother.

"My mother's name was Gloria," she said. "She was beautiful and the kindest person you could ever imagine. She was deaf."

Needless to say, that topic was one that, for the most part, was taboo, and she was practically near tears after she talked about and described the family she grew up with. But Vince, being Vince, and still reminding me of Gibbs a little, had a way to get her back on track. Although he was a man of few words, he knew exactly what to say to make her forget about what was nagging at her and distract her with something else. Tony and I and everyone else sat through nearly two hours of her talking about what she would do during a zombie apocalypse after he asked.

I dozed off on their couch, on Tony's shoulder. I fought to stay awake, because I never liked falling asleep at anyone's house, more so if I was someone's guest. But it did not help that Tony was playing with my hair in the way that I loved and that it was getting late and we had to be up early the next day, which I was glad about. I was sad that our vacation was a little short, but I was also happy to be going back home. I missed my house, working, and the rest of my family.

After we left their house and said our good-byes to Abby's parents, we took a shower and went to bed. My muscles were aching from being so tired. I was asleep quickly, with Tony by my side. I had no idea how soon he fell asleep. Before we had to be up really early the next morning, the last thing I remembered was waking up again at around two in the morning when I felt something move on my left hand side. I looked to see Abby crawling into the bed next to me.

"What are you doing, Abby?" I asked her groggily.

"I'm lonely," she whispered loudly. "You guys look like you're having fun over here. I thought I'd join you." It was not that the bed was small, but she was practically pressed up against me.

"We've been sleeping," Tony said.

"Yeah, but I still feel kind of lonely over there by myself. I don't like being lonely."

I could have argued against that, because a few things came to my mind at that moment. But I was so tired, and I did not care where she was. I just wanted to go back to sleep, which was not that easy to do after she woke me up. I moved closer to Tony so that I would not be so close to Abby.

"'Night, you guys," she said, and I could almost hear the smirk in her voice.

"'Night, Abbs," Tony replied.

We all must have fallen asleep again after that. I did.

The plane ride was calm and nice. Tony had been lucky to find a seat in the flight we had taken. He was not _as_ lucky to find a seat next to us. The seat he was able to find had been a few rows behind us, so he switched with Abby so that he could sit next to me. About an hour after the flight, we switched seats so that he could have the window seat for the rest of the flight back.

When we finally arrived and finished getting our luggage and everything, we went to the parking lot where Tony's car was. He gave Abby a ride to her house, telling her that we would see her tomorrow at work. When she was gone, I asked Tony to stay at my house for the night – because after Florida, I really did not want to spend my nights alone anymore.

That was how it went after Florida. Tony and I were rarely separated, although we faked our banter at work just so Gibbs would not suspect anything. We spent almost every night at the other's house, mostly my house because it was bigger than his apartment, but we did sometimes stay at his apartment, too.

He said he had to unpack, so instead of going straight to my house, we went to his place, where I helped him unpack. He brought a few things in a backpack with him, and then we were off to my house. We had lunch, spent most of the afternoon talking, until at night we were all over each other again. I had remembered Abby's challenge, and I asked him if he was up for it. He was. We got it done, too. They were six long hours, and I was feeling absolutely exhausted and drained towards the end of it, even if we switched positions a lot, but we got it done. I could tell he was tired, too. We hit the shower after that, but we were sore. It felt uncomfortable to walk. I hoped Gibbs would not notice me walking weird tomorrow because that would have been really embarrassing.

On Thursday, we went back to work after we had breakfast. We were pretending that nothing had happened the day before. Tony took his car, and I took mine. When we got back to work, McGee was at his desk, but Gibbs was not.

"Good morning, McSunshine," Tony said loudly with a grin on his face. "Did you miss us?"

McGee glanced at us. "Look who finally arrived," he said sardonically. "Welcome back. I hope you're enjoying the forty-degree weather here as opposed to the eighty-degree heat you had in Florida. Also, I hope you don't mind, but I put some files on your desk. That's just some of the paperwork you guys will be doing for this month." He smiled dryly.

Indeed, on our desks was a small stack of files. I had a feeling that those files would only multiply and that that stack would get bigger.

"Okay, McCranky. Someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Tony huffed.

Fifteen minutes later, long after we had returned to our desks, Gibbs was coming into the bullpen, a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Morning, boss," Tony said.

"How's your sister, DiNozzo?" he asked him, completely ignoring the question he had been asked.

"Uhh, she's fine, boss. She asked about you. Actually, she asked about everyone. Even Ducky and Palmer."

I silently shook my head to myself. How Gibbs was falling for all that was really beyond me.

"Did you tell her that I'm sorry I couldn't bring her any flowers because her idiot brother thought they would be crushed in his suitcase?"

"Uhh..." Tony seemed caught off-guard for a moment. "Yeah, I told her, boss. She understood. She appreciated that you thought of her. And she told me to tell you thanks."

Gibbs gave a small nod as he sat down at his desk and began to work. I looked over at Tony, who shrugged and gave me a look. He glanced over at McGee, who was also giving him another look. McGee looked like he could not believe that Gibbs was falling for the whole sister thing either. Maybe he was starting to lose his mind. I could not tell. I could never tell what was going on in that man's mind.

Without looking up from his desk, Gibbs then said, "How was your trip, David?"

I looked over at him, but he did not return the look. "It was fine. But, really, it was all about Abby and her family. You should ask her."

He finally looked up at me. "I'm asking you. You were there, too."

"It was okay..."

He went back to his computer screen. "You two have a lot of paperwork to do. I hope you're mentally prepared for all the overtime you'll be doing for the next month."

"But, boss, I went to see my sister," Tony protested. McGee just shook his head.

"You don't have a sister, DiNozzo."

Tony momentarily froze. I had to wonder what he was going to say next.

"Boss, I went to visit her in Georgia..."

"No, you went to Florida to be with Abby and Ziva."

McGee looked away, burying his face into his computer to keep from laughing. Gibbs must have been aware of this, but he was too busy glaring at Tony that he probably let that one slide.

"Boss, I…"

"You were in Florida, DiNozzo."

Tony did not say anything else, and that was because he could not. Gibbs finished his coffee and stood up from his desk. Before he went to refill his cup of coffee, he stopped at Tony's desk and gave him a hard slap in the back of the head. Even I felt that one. "You ever lie to me again, DiNozzo, and I'm gonna give you a one-way trip to Italy."

"Am I in trouble, boss?"

"No, you're not in trouble," he said. "None of you are in trouble." I felt a little relieved at that. "You're all in _big_ trouble, that's what."

McGee smiled at us triumphantly, but it did not last long.

"You, too, Elf Lord."

His face fell. "What! Why me! I didn't do anything!"

"You knew, McGee."

"But…"

"No buts, McGee!" Gibbs barked. "You knew DiNozzo went to Florida, and you covered for him! Don't think you're getting out of this easily." With that, he stormed out of the bullpen, leaving behind a quietness that lingered for a few moments.

McGee was angry. Angry that for one entire week he had been dealing with cases and doing a lot of the work with Gibbs and still ended up being in trouble. But, when I looked at it from another point of view, in a way, it was kind of fair. I had no idea if Gibbs was going to stuff him with paperwork the way Tony and I were stuffed, but whatever was coming was not exactly going to be pretty. I could understand his frustration, and so I did not argue when he hurled a stapler at Tony, narrowly missing his head, although he threw it in a way that he knew would miss his head, and a cooking magazine at me.

"I really, really, _really_ hate you guys," he growled. Tony flung the stapler right back at him, but it did not hit him either. McGee threatened to throw it back at him, but I told them that unless they wanted to have a stapler up their ass, to stop throwing the damn thing. They did.

That Thursday had been a pretty slow day. I got my fifty dollars from Abby after convincing her that I really did it with Tony for six hours straight. I could tell that Gibbs was thinking about a potential punishment for us. It seemed like everyone had a lot on their minds, too. McGee, although pissed at the fact that Gibbs found something to blame him for, still looked like he was hiding something. And I still had a million things running through my head. I knew Tony would not want me to bring it up, but soon I was going to have to call that number I got from Abby's phone and see who answered on the other line.

We worked late – much later than McGee. By ten thirty, we were leaving work. McGee had left at around seven, and Gibbs had left an hour before us. Abby had probably gone around the same time as her boyfriend, but I had no clue. After we were done, we went back to my house where Tony spent the night again.

We decided to take a shower together, both of us too tired to do anything but shower and merely talk. After a small arm wrestling match, we were ready for bed. I felt absolutely comfortable wearing his shirt. It was his Ohio State shirt. I knew he loved it, but he insisted that I keep it.

I was standing before the mirror, taking in the way I looked with his shirt. It was very big on me, but it smelled like him, and I liked the way it looked on me. I did not care about the size of it. My towel-dried hair was up in a messy bun, and I looked very casual and kind of tomboy-ish with his shirt and black pajama pants. My mind began to drift away to something else; I hardly realized that I was standing in front of a mirror until Tony came up behind me and put his arms around my waist as his chin rested on my shoulder.

It was moments like those that I sometimes loved the most – straight out of the shower and right before bed. Moments where I knew I would be sleeping well after that. They were simple, but they spoke volumes to me. The first time was not the last, and I never grew tired of the way this took a routine-like turn for the most part. Our eyes would meet in the mirror, and as he held my gaze, he would tell me that I was the most beautiful girl in the world as he tickled my neck with his nose and pressed his lips against my neck and shoulder with a soft, gentle kiss. His lips trailed up to my ear, managing to send chills down my spine and give my skin goosebumps. As he pressed his lips against my ear, he would whisper, "I love you, sweetcheeks."

His green eyes would once again meet mine in the mirror, and before he could even think about pulling away, I would swiftly turn my head to face him and capture his lips against mine. When we came back for air, I would answer him every time, "I love you more, Tony."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Ziva! You have a package!" McGee, in an unusually good mood that morning, barely let me exit the elevator when he told me this.<p>

Tony and I had come in his car to work that Friday morning. Gibbs might have figured out eventually that although both of us were there, only Tony's car was in the parking lot. But neither one of us was thinking about that when we were headed to work. We did not care. We were tired. We just wanted to get to work.

"I have a what?" I said.

"You have a package," he said again. "I don't know when it got here – maybe last night or this morning, I guess. But it's on your desk."

"And you haven't opened it?" Tony asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, I thought of it," he admitted. "Since you guys are nosy and like to open my things and snoop around my desk and stuff, I thought I should open it and see what's inside. But Abby thought we should respect your privacy, so I didn't."

"Abby?" I said.

"Yeah, it was in her lab this morning," he said. "It has your name on it, but no return address. So I brought it up to your desk."

There was a brown, medium-sized box on my desk. I put my bags down beside my chair and took a good look at it. In a neat and clear handwriting, my name was printed at the top left side of the box. It looked like it had been done with a sharpie marker. I took the box and gave it a little shake. Whatever was inside shook as well, creating a rather faint rattling sound. Behind me, Tony and McGee were leaning over my shoulder to take a peek.

"Open it," McGee said impatiently.

"Don't rush her, McImpatience," Tony shot back. "Open it when you're ready, ninja girl."

McGee sighed that sigh that was usually accompanied by an eye roll. I took out my knife and cut through the tape that sealed the brown box shut. Both men were still hovering over my shoulder, curious to see what was inside the box. When I opened it, I wished I had not. I was not expecting to see what I saw. McGee was unimpressed. Tony had been stunned into silence, much like I was. For a moment, I felt completely paralyzed.

It was the camera.


	22. Oh, Friday

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! I'm done with classes for a few weeks, so there should be regular updates.  
>Just to clear up any possible confusion, I know I have a few ideas scattered around, but soon, everything should be falling into place. There are certain 'pictures' that seemed to have disappeared, but I'll get back to them later on. In the meantime, enjoy and review please.<p>

…..

:: Chapter 22 – Oh, Friday ::

Abby thought she was dying from the lack of Caf-Pows, which Gibbs had taken away from her as part of her punishment. He still had yet to find another punishment for us. In short, we were all in trouble, including Abby. She also knew that Tony was with us and never said anything – the same reason I was in trouble with him. McGee was in trouble for covering for Tony, but Tony was the one in most trouble for lying to Gibbs and taking time off work to go to another state when he could have been helping out during their busy week. But while Abby was suffering without her daily dosage of caffeine and McGee fuming over how he also had to suffer, I was dealing with something far worse than that. And no one, except Tony, knew about it.

When I opened the box on my desk, I was not sure what to expect. No one ever really sent me anything by mail, and whenever I did get mail, they were always bills that I had to pay. But I was _not_ expecting the camera. I just could not wrap my mind around the fact that the camera had somehow mysteriously been in my possession again after I had made sure it was gone when we were in Florida.

McGee sounded disappointed. "A camera?" he said. "How exciting. Who would send you a camera?"

I could not speak. Normally, this would have been one of those 'you-should-have-seen-your-face' moments, but I did not want to know what my face looked like at that moment. I was sure it was not pleasant. Tony covered for me.

"It's from her Aunt Nettie in Tel Aviv," he said.

"Aunt Nettie?"

"Yeah. She thought Ziva needed a new camera, so she sent her one. She's been waiting for this thing for a long time."

"Why would your Aunt Nettie send you a camera all the way from Tel Aviv? You can buy one in Walmart for eighty bucks."

"It's a special camera, McCheapskate."

"What's so special about it? It looks pretty plain to me."

"It's a new model," Tony said quickly. "It hasn't been released in the United States yet. Ziva really wanted it, so her aunt got it for her. You act like that's a weird thing."

"It _is_ a weird thing, DiNozzo."

"How is it weird, McFreaky?"

"I don't know. It's just different. Ziva never gets mail."

"And you would know that because…?"

"Because I never see her get any mail."

"That would be because the mail she gets arrives at her house, smarty pants."

McGee sighed, and I could hear his footsteps walking away towards his desk. He probably did not realize that I was still standing there, motionless and in shock. I then felt Tony nudge me in the arm. I finally moved, slowly facing him, but words were failing me at that moment. McGee was sitting at his desk, not paying any attention to us, and so Tony led me over to the break room by the arm simply because I could not will my feet to move even if I tried.

He had the camera in his hand, but I did not remember seeing him reach into the box to get it. It was not until he put his hand on my cheek that I finally began to react to what happened within the last few minutes. For a moment, I swore I began to get a little bit like Abby whenever she heard bad news about her teammates.

"Oh, my God." I began to bounce anxiously in my spot. "Oh, my God, I can't believe this!" My voice was low, but there was still a chance of someone – _anyone_ – hearing us. "I can't believe this! I threw this thing away, Tony; I swear on my mother's grave that I threw this away when were in Florida. I have _no_ idea how this got back, I _swear_…"

"Ziva." He put a finger on my lips to quiet me down. I stopped moving and went quiet. "Calm down. Okay? There has to be an explanation for this. Things don't just happen just because…"

"Yeah, just like there's been an explanation for every other picture that shows up on this thing and then happens!" I shot back. "It's not a coincidence, but there's no explanation for it either!"

"I know it seems that way, but there really has to be some kind of explanation for this. We just don't know what it is yet. But there has to be one."

That still did not explain how that camera got back to me. It was not like it shipped itself from a dumpster in West Palm Beach to the NCIS headquarters in DC. I thought about having Abby check the box for any other fingerprints aside from the obvious ones, but then figured that that would have brought about more explanations than I would be comfortable giving. Still, something needed to be done, and I needed to know why all this was happening and how that camera came into my possession to begin with.

"What if there isn't?" I asked.

"There will be. Maybe not now, but soon there'll be one."

For some reason, I believed him. I had no idea why I felt like trusting him on that one, but I did. He was looking at me calmly, as if urging me to stay calm as well. He put his hand on the side of my neck and said, "I know you don't wanna tell anyone about the camera thing, and I respect that. But that means you have to be cool about it and not freak out in front of everyone. They'll be suspicious if you do, and that's definitely not what we want."

I nodded. "Okay."

He nodded back at me. "Good. Just keep calm. It's Friday, so we have the rest of the weekend to freak out and whatnot." He turned to the camera in his other hand and waved it in my face. "Wanna do the honors?"

I took it from him and hesitantly turned it on. There were two new pictures. The one we had seen of Tony back in the hotel room had disappeared. I still had no idea what it could have meant, but I secretly hoped that it did not come back. The first picture was of me, Tony, Abby, and McGee. We were in a car, and it was dark outside the windows. I did not know what it meant. Maybe we were going to take a late night cruise or something? I showed it to Tony.

"That's weird, I guess," he said with a light shrug. "But none of us are dead, so that's a bonus." The humor in his voice was dry. I went on to the next picture. I did not like it.

There was a dead woman. She was unrecognizable. There was blood all over her seemingly disfigured face. The picture was mostly zoomed in on her face, but I could see that there was an arm tucked under her head. Even from that mostly unrevealing angle, I could tell that her arm had been unnaturally twisted around. I could not tell who the woman was, let alone what happened to her, but I could see that she had dark-colored hair.

Tony saw the picture and grimaced. "That's… not good."

I felt worried. That could have been anyone. The picture was not very clear about who would die next. In a way, I hoped it was not me. Besides, I could have found more peaceful ways to die – if I did, it would certainly not be anything like _that_.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, cases were a good thing.<p>

Okay, so it sucked that someone was killed, but it sometimes helped me take my mind off whatever was happening in my life. That would have sounded weird to any normal person, but it was true. Working and doing what I loved helped me escape reality, never mind the fact that it was a demanding job.

This particular case, however, proved to take a toll on everyone. We spent a few weeks on it, and on a normal night, everyone else left at around eleven. Tony and I, since we were doing extra paperwork, sometimes left at one or two in the morning. Needless to say, we were dead tired when we got home. There were times where we fell asleep with our clothes on and other times where we fell asleep at the office by our desks. We were lucky, though, that Gibbs never caught us snuggling against each other, thanks to McGee, who so kindly woke us up in the mornings that that happened, reminding us that if Gibbs saw us like that, he would gladly kick my ass all the way to Israel and Tony's ass to Italy.

When we got to the crime scene that Friday morning, we learned that marine Carrie Springer had been killed by her husband. Just when we thought things would be easy, they turned out to be super hard. We knew that she had been killed by her husband, so that, as Tony would have said, was a bonus. But he wanted us to catch him, wherever he was. We knew that if he was on the run, this would be tough. And tough it was.

Tony and I had been faking banter the entire ride to the crime scene. Gibbs thought we needed to be separated, which came to McGee's advantage. Tony went to take statements as Gibbs left me and McGee alone to take pictures and bag and tag.

I was snapping pictures when I heard him speak up uncertainly. "Ziva?"

"Yes, McGee?" I answered.

He said nothing after that. I stopped what I was doing, only to find that he had stopped what he was doing as well, but was staring off into space distractedly. I felt a knot tie in my stomach, knowing that something was off. It reminded me of when we were talking to him over the phone in Florida. I knew something had been bothering him, and maybe it was time to find out.

I walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "McGee?" I said again. He did not move. "Do not make me call Tony in here so that he can snap you back to your senses."

He turned to me. "Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"Never mind," he said suddenly. "It doesn't matter." He was about to go back to what he was doing, but I stopped him.

"Obviously, it does matter," I said to him. "And it is bothering you. I can tell. What is it?"

He hesitated for a moment before answering, "If I tell you… you can't tell anyone."

I nodded. "Okay."

"I'm serious. You can't tell Gibbs or Tony… especially Abby."

I nodded again, but inside I was mostly thinking, _Oh, God. This is it. This is the part where he tells me something that Abby's better off never knowing about, but then she eventually finds out, and I end up stuck in the middle and having to take sides. Do I even want to hear this?_ But I only nodded at him and said, "Okay. I will not tell anyone."

"If I hear that Abby somehow heard about this, I'm gonna kill you, Ziva. I'm not kidding."

"McGee," I sighed, "I promise I will not say a word, especially to Abby. Unless you are cheating on her. Are you cheating on her?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I'm not cheating on her. But something _did_ happen, and I don't want her to find out about it, cuz she will seriously flip the hell out and kill someone, although I swear, I never saw it coming–"

"McGee, calm down and tell me what happened." At that point, I was not sure I wanted to know at all what happened, but I could not deny that I was curious.

He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "When you guys were in Florida, we started to get a lot of cases. It got to the point where we had to have other agents come in and help. Well, we caught a case on Friday, one week ago, and Gibbs had to have Carla come help us. She was the only other person available that day."

_Oh, God,_ I thought to myself again.

"And, so… we got to the crime scene, and Gibbs went to take statements. That left the two of us alone with the body. I was bagging and tagging, and she was taking pictures. At one point, she called me and said that there was something really weird on the guy's shirt and that she had no idea what it was. So I went over to check out what it was, and the moment I leaned down to take a look at what she said she saw, she kissed me! She freakin' kissed me!"

Now _that _caught me by surprise, probably almost as much as that kiss caught him by surprise. "No! She kissed you? What did you do?" It seemed almost silly to ask, but I was not exactly expecting him to say that he liked it and that he returned it. At least I hoped not.

"She completely caught me off guard!"

"I know, McGee, but what did you do?"

"Nothing – at first!" He sounded a little sheepish at that. "I-I was too stunned. I wasn't expecting that. I couldn't move. A few seconds later, I pushed her away, but… I felt terrible after that. I felt like I cheated on Abby or something. I thought maybe I should have reacted quicker and pushed her away. Or I should have seen it coming. Why didn't I see it coming? It was so obvious. I think everyone noticed she was coming on to me. Do you think she was coming on to me? Do you think that–"

I cut him off. "McGee," I said, "stop. Look at me. This is not your fault. _She_ kissed _you_, not the other way around. You did not see it coming and you were not expecting that at all. Sometimes our brains take a little long to fully process everything that happens suddenly. We both know how Abby can be… but if she truly loves you, she will understand."

He sighed. "What would you do if Tony told you that a girl kissed him?"

"Would he have kissed her back?"

"No. I mean, what if he told you the same thing I just told you? What would you do?"

"Snap her neck like a twig."

"If I told Abby, do you think she would kill Carla?"

I chuckled a little at that. "She would not even give it a second thought, McGee. _And_ she would make sure not to leave any evidence behind." He sighed. "I think you should tell her and be honest with her. Do not be nervous about it, or she will be suspicious and think that you wanted to kiss her back. It is better to tell her now than to risk having her find out by accident later on. Things would only get worse if that were to happen."

"Yeah," he nodded. "I guess you're right. I guess I'll tell her. Just don't mention it to her at all. I want to be the one to tell her."

"Good."

"Thanks, Ziva. I really needed to tell someone."

"No problem. We should get back to work before Gibbs comes in wanting to kill us."

"Yeah," he agreed with a nod.

I was glad that I could help McGee in whatever way that I could, but that did not take away from everything I was feeling. There were so many things running through my mind, and I could not simply will those thoughts away even if I wanted to. A minute later, Tony came into the room, complaining.

"I hate taking statements," he said. "You really encounter the rudest people, you know." Neither one of us answered him. There was a small pause before he went on and said, "Okay, who died? You know, aside from the dead woman here."

"Nobody died, Tony," McGee said. "Except for her."

"What's with the solemn faces then?"

"We're _thinking_, Tony," he said curtly. "Maybe if you did that every once in a while, it would bring you down, too."

The next part reminded me of when McGee one time told me that when we were on a stakeout, he and Tony started to fight when Tony threw a burrito at his head because he did not get him the scrambled eggs that he wanted. Although there were no burritos and scrambled eggs to fight over, they still lunged at each other. McGee had so much unreleased anger inside of him from everything that had happened within the last week that he felt the need to take it out on anyone who annoyed him. Unfortunately for Tony, that meant that he was the victim of that anger.

On any other normal day, I would have watched amusedly as they attacked each other and possibly not even warn them if Gibbs was coming. But they were being so childish, McGee's anger towards everyone and everything was irritating, and I was not exactly in the best mood that day, so I ended up breaking up their fight. I pinched Tony's shoulder which made him loosen his grip on McGee for a moment and pulled him back.

"If Gibbs catches you two fighting like children, we are _all_ going to be in trouble," I said impatiently. I was a little taken aback at the way I was raising my voice at them, almost as if I were a mother scolding her children. "And if we mess up anything in this crime scene and Gibbs finds out about it, he will kill us for sure."

"He started it," Tony pouted breathlessly, pointing childishly at McGee.

I punched McGee on the shoulder, but it was not that hard. He looked at me, shocked, but not very pleased with the fact that I had just punched him.

"Idiots," I scoffed and walked away. Before anyone could say anything else, Gibbs finally came in and up to us. No one was exactly in the mood to talk, and Gibbs caught on to that, though he did not ask us what happened. In the midst of all that, I realized that for a moment, I let my anger and impatience get the best of me. Really, I just needed to cool off somewhere.

* * *

><p>With Tony, things were different. That was to be expected, though; once we agreed to start a relationship, we knew that things between us were not going to be as they had been before. But it was a good kind of different. I found myself being more open with him than I ever was and vice versa. I normally would have been extremely uncomfortable with displaying what I truly felt to someone, but with him, it just felt so normal and so right. He was always willing to listen, no matter what. And he, sometimes closing himself off and more often than not hiding behind the mask of a clown, was open with me as well. We could cry in front of each other and feel completely comfortable doing so.<p>

On Friday, he came home with me again. I was thinking of staying at his apartment, but I was feeling way too tired to pack a small bag with overnight things and head back to his place, so we just decided to come back to my house – not that either one of us was complaining about it.

When I got home, I quickly took off my clothes and headed straight for the shower. I did not even care that I was leaving a trail of clothes behind me, but Tony picked everything I left behind up and put it in my room. I stood in the shower for a good fifteen minutes or so before I heard the door open and close.

"Ziva? You gonna come out of there soon?"

"I hope so," I answered dryly.

"How long do you think you're gonna be in there for?"

I sighed to myself. "I don't know."

I thought I heard him murmur, "Okay." There was silence before the shower curtain opened and he stepped in. If there was something on his mind other than showering or just standing there, I was really not in the mood for it. I let it be known through my body language, and he caught on. He did not ask me. He respected that. Instead of saying anything, he sat down on the bathtub floor, his back against the wall. He held out his hand, and I took it and carefully settled myself between his legs, resting my head on his shoulder. His arms went around my waist.

He always _did_ know what I was thinking.

The silence between us was a comfortable one. He did not need to say anything for me to know what he was trying to tell me. Neither did I. As the water continued to rain down on us, he began to run his hand up and down my back, soothingly. I snuggled closer to him, although it looked like I was squirming in seeming desperation. He knew it was. He always knew.

"Ziva," he said quietly, patiently. He knew what I was thinking, and he knew what was going to happen.

I found myself sobbing after that. Releasing the day's tension, wondering why – _why_ – this was happening to me. I must have been a really terrible person in a past life, worse than I already was in this life. I was not, however, dwelling on that thought at that moment. I was just releasing all the tension that had built up and accumulated throughout the day. Admittedly, it was nice to have a good cry every once in a while and just let it all out.

Tony did not say anything as I cried, but he did not need to. He simply held me and rubbed my back up and down, the contrast between the cool water and the heat from our skin eventually contributing to me calming down. After I did, I was beginning to feel tired and drained, both physically and emotionally. My eyelids were feeling heavy, and I really did not care that I hadn't even showered and had simply gotten in the shower to get wet.

"Ziva," Tony said again, "you ready to get out now?"

I nodded against him, but did no real effort to get out. In fact, after that, I hardly did anything for myself; I was feeling too tired to do anything. I could have literally sat down on the toilet and stayed there until the next day. But Tony, suddenly acquiring the patience of a saint, took matters into his own hands. He never once complained or pushed me to do anything for myself or called me lazy. He was surprisingly quiet and skillful in what he was doing, and although I was standing naked right in front of him, he respected the fact that I was not at all in the mood for sex.

He wrapped a towel around me, which was the only towel on the rack, and then led me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom. He took the towel and dried me off in silence as I stood there, feeling a little numb, of all things and among other things. He was gentle in the way he handled it, which I appreciated. When he was done with that, he went to find a new pair of underwear and helped me slip it on.

"Bra tonight?" he asked me.

I shook my head. It seemed like too much work already.

Instead of finding a pajama set for me, he went for one of his shirts and put it on me. Next, he towel-dried my hair a little bit and combed it back with a brush. Something told me that he must have done these things before. Granted, it was not rocket science, but there was still a gentleness and ease to the way he maneuvered. When he was sure he did not leave anything undone, he dried himself off and slipped on a pair of boxers and a shirt. The most I did after that was sit down at the edge of my bed and nothing else.

He was organizing some things when he turned and said, "Sweetcheeks, I know you're tired, and it's been a long day. Go to sleep."

"Come with me," I said. My throat hurt a little when I spoke, and I assumed it was from all the crying, but nothing I would be worried about.

Pretty soon, he was climbing onto the bed, softly tugging at my hand to join him. I did. We slipped under the covers, and he turned the light off, leaving us in complete darkness before our eyes began to adjust to the dark. I could feel him shift in his spot before he turned to face me. His hand searched my own and our fingers met.

"Tomorrow I'm going to call that number and see what happens," I told him.

He nodded. "You think the person who answers the phone may have something to do with this whole camera business?" he asked.

"Not necessarily," I answered truthfully. "But I do not believe in coincidences. That dream that Abby had is not a coincidence. I think this may be a piece of the puzzle, and I think there are lots of pieces missing that we just have to put together." I paused for a moment. "If this number leads me to someone's house… you do not have to come along if you don't want to."

He gave my hand a squeeze and said, "No, I'll come with you if that's the case. Like it or not, I'm a part of this now, too. When I say I have your back, I mean it, Zee. Work related or not, I'll always have your back. I don't want to risk something happening to you and me not being there to protect you."

I moved closer to him until my face was centimeters away from his. "Thank you, Tony."

"No need to thank," he said quietly. "You're my partner, my soul mate, my best friend. Of course I'm going to be there with you no matter what."

I pressed my lips against his in single, light, somewhat drawn-out kiss. I ran my hand through his hair, gently scraping his head with my fingernails. I was perfectly fine holding him like that, but I was tired and desperately needed and wanted to fall asleep. "I love you," I told him, and he said it back like he always did.

Tomorrow would be a brand new day full of surprises that my mind could not even begin to wrap itself around. On one hand, I had the worst luck ever. But I had Tony, who always had my back in everything. On the other hand, I guessed I was the luckiest person alive.


	23. The Second Time is the Charm

~ This chapter may be a little confusing to some of you right now, but I promise, in due time it will all make sense. :)) The other ones should be better than this chapter, so bear with me for now. Also, let's pretend Ziva lives in a house instead of an apartment. That was my bad many chapters ago, but it works, I think.  
>Many thanks to everyone who continues to stick around in this seemingly long journey. :) You guys are the best. Enjoy and review!<p>

…..

:: Chapter 23 – The Second Time is the Charm ::

He was sweating and had one leg practically dangling from the bed. He was wrapped in at least three blankets, one of them being pretty thick, most likely resulting in all the sweat. He was snoring a little. But even then, he looked adorable and so peaceful. I did not really want to wake him from his seemingly peaceful sleep, so I tried not to, in a way, still hoping he would.

I ran my hand lightly around his face and forehead. I was surprised at how sweaty he was. I did not remember him having three blankets before we went to sleep. I did not sleep well, but I was guessing that he must have been cold throughout the night and gotten more blankets at some point when I was actually asleep. I was fine. It was not too hot, nor was it too cold. It was just fine to me.

He did not seem to feel my touch, so I continued with it. I ran my hand through his hair, but he still did not wake up. I was wondering if I should have been worried at that point. He was not generally such a heavier sleeper – not the lightest, but not the heaviest either. I leaned down and whispered his name in his ear, causing him to shift a little and finally wake up.

"Good morning," I said and gave him a small kiss on the lips.

"Morning," he mumbled groggily. "What time is it?"

"About ten."

"Why are you awake on a Saturday morning at ten?" He turned over on his stomach. "It's too early," he mumbled sounding a little muffled.

I sighed to myself, not entirely sure how to say what I wanted to say next. I wanted to say one thing but ended up saying something else. I pulled off the really thick blanket that was covering him, leaving the other two lighter blankets on. He was still for a moment, and then turned again to face me. "Ziva?" he sounded less groggy now.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I know there aren't a lot of good movies, but if you want to go, that would be nice."

He raised an eyebrow and continued to look at me.

"I was also thinking – you know, only if you want – that we could do like a double date kind of thing with McGee and Abby if they are not busy. If you want to."

"Ziva…?"

I continued to ramble on. "But if you do not want to, that is fine, too. Just a suggestion."

He did not say anything. I had not yet exactly realized that I was mostly avoiding eye contact. I was only aware that I sounded like Abby, just talking and talking and not shutting up. "We don't even have to go to the movies if you do not want to. We can go somewhere else. I have nothing in mind, but if you have something in mind, feel free to share…"

He sat up in bed, promptly cutting me off. "Ziva."

I stopped talking and looked at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"What do you mean what's wrong? Should something be wrong?"

"I'm hoping not."

"I do not follow."

"Me neither."

I was confused. "What?"

He shook his head. "Something's bothering you," he said. "I can tell. I just don't know what it is."

I paused for a moment, hesitating. It was more than evident that I was holding on to what I wanted to say, and he, very clearly, noticed. "Sweetcheeks? You okay?" he asked, but when I did not answer him, he pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. He felt so warm and inviting that I really just wanted to stay there, but I knew I could not. I had other things to attend to, unfortunately.

"I called," I finally said.

"You called." He knew what I meant.

"I lied."

"So you didn't call?"

"Yes, I called, but…"

"So why are you saying that you lied? Not following you here."

I sighed. "I called," I told him. "And some lady answered. She sounded kind of old. I did not mention the camera or anything weird. I told her that I was calling from a pizza shop and that we lost her address and needed it again to deliver it to her. She believed it."

"So you got an address?" he asked.

I nodded. "We should really get going. The pizza should not take that long, anyway."

"Who would order a pizza this early in the morning?" he asked rhetorically, but it was probably to himself. "What if she asks about the pizza when we show up without one?"

"With any luck, she'll forget. Or we'll pretend we're not the pizza guys and that we're selling something to her."

"This is giving me a headache."

"You do not have to come along, Tony," I told him. "Honestly. I will be fine going by myself."

"No, I'm coming with you. I already told you that." We both got out of the bed, and soon, he was off to take a shower. Naturally, he asked if I wanted to join him. I declined because I was not exactly in the mood for it, and besides, I had already taken one before he woke up. I promised him that we could take another shower later on at night, after the day was over. As he showered, I got ready quickly and waited for him to get out. As I waited for him, I could not help turning on the camera and looking at the pictures, which were still the same ones as before: the dead, unrecognizable woman and me, Tony, Abby, and McGee in a car.

Before I knew it, Tony was finishing his ten-minute shower. I was still looking at the pictures, wondering what the one of the four of us meant. We were in a car and it was dark outside. I could not think of anything else except the four of us taking a ride in someone's car at night. We looked fine. None of us looked injured, nor did the car ride look like a ride to the hospital or anything like that. It did not look like any of us were going to die; death was not always the end result in these pictures. But, as it turned out, nothing was predictable, and it was definitely possible. As for the dead woman… I could only hope for the best for her – whoever she was.

"Ready?" Tony asked me when he was done.

I nodded. The car ride to our destination was excruciatingly quiet. I would have liked to have said something to calm my nerves, but I could not find anything to say. Nothing that came to my mind was appropriate for the moment, and I could not think of anything else. Tony did not say anything either, probably afraid that I was going to suddenly snap or something. Still, even a little joke or a movie reference from him would not have hurt.

We ended up in a suburban neighborhood that was surprisingly nearly full of kids playing around the streets, riding their bicycles, and playing sports. It was too early on a Saturday morning to be doing that, but the neighborhood looked inviting to all those activities. Meanwhile, I was stressing out about a camera that would not leave me the hell alone, wondering what this old lady we were about to pay a visit to had to do with any of this.

I guessed we would find out.

Tony pulled up along the sidewalk of the house that belonged to the lady. We got out and wordlessly walked up to the front door. I knocked. In less than a minute, the elderly woman answered. She was pretty tall for her age, which I assumed was around the mid-eighties, and had long, white wavy hair. She was a little darker-skinned than me, and she did not look like she was from the United States. I could not figure out from where, though.

"Good morning," she said politely. "How may I help you?"

"Uhh…" I began. My mind suddenly ran a blank. I had no idea what to say. Tony stepped in for me, thankfully.

"Hi, ma'am," he said. "See, our daughter is a girl scout and she… she's selling cookies in the neighborhood, so she sent my wife and I to… sell some cookies on the other side of the neighborhood."

The lady reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a pair of scissors. "You left a little girl alone in the neighborhood?" She drove the scissors slowly through her long, white hair as she gave herself a haircut of some sort.

"Uhh… umm… She's with some of her friends and some chaperones. You know girl scouts – they never go alone…" Tony answered. I knew he was utterly confused and, quite frankly, freaked out by this woman snipping her hair away right in front of us. I could not blame him. I was warily staring as well.

"Hmm," she said.

"Not to sound nosy or anything, ma'am, but… there's a Supercuts like a mile away from here," Tony went on.

"It's okay," she said. "Anyway, please come in. I am interested in those cookies you are selling. The pizza man never arrived. I do not remember ordering a pizza, but if it was coming, why bother making breakfast, no?" She began to walk back into her house, still snipping away at her hair.

For a moment, I considered running and getting the hell out of there. I frantically looked over at Tony, but the look in his eyes told me to calm down and follow the lady. We were already there anyway. We did and sat down on the couch, stepping over the hair on the floor carefully as we followed the lady's steps. I held Tony's hand as we did. I felt better if I could feel him next to me.

"So," the lady said as she sat down across from us, still cutting her hair. She was, by the way, doing an awful job at cutting her own hair. It was uneven everywhere, and not only that, but she was also leaving a trail of hair behind her. It was disgusting. "What kind of cookies are you selling?"

"Lemon," I said quickly.

"That's it?"

"And coconut," Tony added.

"Lemon and coconut? Only two?" the lady said. "Surely, your daughter must have the other flavors?"

"Yeah, must have slipped our minds to get the other ones," Tony said.

"Well, you are in luck. Lemon cookies are my favorite. How many do you have left?"

"One box…"

"I guess that is all I'll need." She put the pair of scissors back in her pocket, although she had not yet reached the right side of her hair. I almost cringed at it. "Tell me, how old is your daughter?"

Tony and I glanced at each other.

"Seven," he answered.

The lady nodded, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glint of sadness in her eyes. "She must be beautiful."

"She is," Tony smirked a little. "She looks like her mother." His grip on my hand tightened for a second and then loosened. I did not say anything.

"I remember when my grandson was seven. He was the highlight of my life. He was sixteen when he died. He was killed."

"How?" Tony asked curiously.

"It was the late nineties. He was tortured and killed for information by some agency in a warehouse a long time ago. From what I heard, a girl his age killed him, and the warehouse they were in was abandoned."

"Not NCIS, I hope," I heard Tony mutter under his breath. I kicked him for that, but the lady did not catch us doing either of those things. He said out loud, "I'm sorry to hear that, ma'am. I'm sure he would have been a great guy serving his country."

"No," the lady shook her head. "He always wanted to leave his country. He had dreams of coming to America, but his life was cut short and never made it. I moved here in the early two-thousands. My grandson would have loved it here."

"Where exactly are you from?"

What the hell was with all the questions? When did Tony suddenly become so damn interested in this strange woman? And how was anything she said relevant to the camera and its weird, almost non-existent, origins?

"Egypt," she answered. "My children were born in Egypt. My grandson was born in Israel, where he was killed."

That was it. I felt as though I had been punched in the stomach and could not breathe for a moment. I looked at Tony wanting to tell him something – _anything_ – but the words were not coming to me. He took a hint when I squeezed his hand so hard that we both thought I might actually break it. Just when I thought I had the words at the tip of my tongue, ready to tell him to _let's get the freakin' _hell _out of here_, something else came out. "The cookies, Tony?"

"Ah, right, the cookies," he said. "They're in our car, Mrs. …"

"Hassan," she said. "It's alright for you to get them. I'll be in the shower now, and I will wait for you to come back." She removed the scissors from her pocket and resumed her personal haircut before she got up and walked away.

"Tony…" I began, but it sounded more like a strangled whimper. I hated sounding so pathetic, but I could not help it either. He was dead serious when stood behind me, put a hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet and not say another word. We walked outside, where he removed his hand from my mouth, and made our way to the car.

"To hell with those cookies," he said, his voice bordering between quiet and trying-not-to-panic-right-now. "We're getting the hell out of here _now._"

I could not agree more. I got in the car. It was silent between us until he took off.

"That was weird. I don't know what to think." And that was merely putting it lightly. "I didn't think things would be _that_ weird until she mentioned Israel. The fact that she was giving herself a haircut was weird, too, but for a moment, I thought she was just a crazy old lady. Now I don't know what to think."

I went on to tell him that the first time I ever killed someone was when I was in Mossad. I had recently turned sixteen years old, and it was around mid-early December. He was my age, and I did, in fact, torture him for information that he had and Mossad wanted. And we were in a warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The lady, I thought, could have very well been his grandmother. I did not remember the boy's name, but it was possible.

"Okay," he said. "Let's say that, yeah, the woman is that kid's grandmother. Alright. Hooray. What does any of that have to do with the camera and these pictures?"

I shook my head. "I do not know," I said pitifully. "It seems like there is not a connection between all this."

"True," he reasoned. "But it's not a coincidence, either. This leads to something. I just can't figure out what."

If he couldn't, then I sure as hell couldn't either. I told him to forget about it, that we could discuss it another time.

"Alright," he agreed with a sigh. "Anyway, Ziva, it's almost eleven in the morning. Do you want to go get some breakfast? I'm hungry."

I was not hungry at all. I knew that breakfast was the most important meal of the day, but I did not think I could eat anything. If I did, I was not sure I could keep it down. I knew Tony would want me to eat something and would be on my ass about it until I gave in or until he convinced me, but I was just really not in the mood for it. "I am not hungry."

"Yeah, but you still have to eat," he said. "At least breakfast. You know it's important to eat breakfast."

"I know, Tony, but…"

"Something small. And I'll leave you alone after that."

"I will be hungry later."

"I would rather you eat something now."

I gave in. If I hadn't, he would have continued pestering me about it. We decided to go to Cracker Barrel. I ate, but I could not finish my food. Everything tasted horrible to me, despite the fact that I liked the restaurant. It just did. Even the Sprite I was drinking tasted gross. Tony finished eating what I left behind, and even after that, he was still hungry. I knew that for that, he would make sure I ate something else tonight. I would make sure he _stayed_ with me tonight, because I knew that I did not want to be alone. And I promised him a shower, so that was in order, too.

"Still want to call Abby and McGee?" he asked me.

I shook my head.

"You sure? You look like you could use a little get-together to take your mind off things."

"Invite them if you want, Tony. I do not care." I was in no mood for company, but it could not hurt either.

"Alright."

They did end up coming over to my house later on. They stayed a while, which was nice. Neither McGee nor Abby ever mentioned anything about Carla kissing him, and although I had no idea if that meant that he told her yet or not, I did not bring it up either. Tony and I did not mention anything that had happened that day either, but McGee and Abby could see that I was not in the best of moods. They asked me if I was okay several times, and I brushed it off as being tired, but they knew I was lying. I _was_ tired, but that was not my major concern. I needed a shower, I needed to go to sleep, and I wanted Tony to be there with me.

It was around six in the afternoon when the other duo left. Abby said she was not feeling so well, so they left. The most we knew was that she would spend the night at McGee's house because she did not feel well, but only God knew if they were already living together. When they left, I felt a little relieved. If I had to continue hearing about Caf-Pows and zombies and boring computer stuff, I was going to kill someone.

As soon as they were gone, Tony said, "I'm ready to hit the shower. Care to join me?"

"Yes," I told him. There was something I wanted to do first, but I wanted to do it alone. By the time he was ready to get in the shower, I told him I was going to do something first and that I would be right back. He was hesitant, as I suspected he would be, but I assured him that I would not blow my brains out with my gun or anything that would potentially harm me.

I closed the bathroom door behind me and went out to the garage, bringing the camera along with me. The garage was mostly filled with boxes that I had not bothered to unpack when I moved into the house. Some of them were nearly empty, some full to the very top. A had a storage container in a corner that had some tools inside. I located the container, found a claw hammer I had and took it out.

I sat on the floor of the empty and warm garage and set the camera down on the ground before me. Unexpectedly, the camera's screen began to flicker on and off, almost as though it were having a seizure. Tony would have said it was horror-movie style. I only watched as it did, but my heart was in my throat. It finally turned on and settled on a blank background. There was something written on it. I carefully picked it up and read what it said.

_Don't do it. _

I felt a chill run down my spine. This was eerie on its own. Who could possibly know what I was about to do? The first attempt failed, but the second time, I hoped, would be the charm. In the back of my mind, I knew this was not going to work. I knew it would come back. If it did not work the first time, what made me think it was going to work the second time? Without giving it any further thought, I brought the hammer down onto the screen, smashing it into pieces. I continued until I was sure that it barely looked like the remains of a camera anymore. I cleaned up my mess, threw it away, and put the hammer back in its place.

I went back to Tony, who quickly asked me, "What the hell took you so long?"

I did not answer him as I slipped into the shower.

He looked at me. "Ziva," he said, concern lacing his voice. "What's wrong?" When I did not answer him, he went on, "Ziva, you're shaking. Talk to me." I had not noticed until he mentioned it. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I broke it," I told him, plain and simple.

He knew what I meant. "How?"

"With a hammer."

I was not sure if he was glad or upset or what. He pulled me into a hug, but it was hard to read his mind at that moment. Even I did not know what to feel. I was still trembling, but unlike that morning, I was not sure what I was feeling. It was hard to pick out an emotion when it felt like they were all there but that I was not feeling any of them. I had no idea what came over me after that, because the next thing I knew, I was kissing Tony like there was no tomorrow. He did not miss a beat and managed to keep up with me. If anything was for sure, there was an unspoken lust in our eyes and it played out perfectly, passionately, and roughly for the rest of our shower time.

Still, my bad luck was extremely inevitable. The damn thing was there again the next morning.


	24. Flowers for Her Grave

So I pretty much loved reading everyone's reviews last chapter. I'm glad most of you thought it was creepy, because that is what I was seriously going for. :D  
>Alright, so not much is happening in this chapter, but it's kind of a warm-up for next chapter.<br>And OMG, is anyone's head still reeling from Tuesday's ep? Like seriously, is it frickin' September yet! Argh... anyway, enjoy and review? ;)

…..

:: Chapter 24 – Flowers for Her Grave ::

"Ziva, you have to see this!"

That was the first thing that was said to me on Monday morning. He spent the night before in his own apartment, and I was at my house. Just so Gibbs would not get suspicious, we drove to work in our own car. When I stepped out of the elevator and into the bullpen, Tony almost toppled me over, telling me that there was something that I had to see. I went to my desk and set my things down, not surprised to see that McGee was already there but Gibbs was not. The plasma screen between Tony's and McGee's desk was turned on, the channel settled on ZNN. There were shots and clips of a fire burning down a house. Other than that, I knew nothing else.

"The media's been covering this for at least an hour and a half now," McGee said, the tone of his voice bored and not amused. "It's really getting on my last nerve, and I would _love_ to turn it off, but Tony wants to watch it."

"An hour and a half? It is only seven-thirty in the morning," I said.

"I know. Pretty big fire, but it didn't kill anyone else, aside for the woman who lived in the house."

"Do you know who?" I asked him.

"Who what?"

"Who the woman that died in the fire is, McGee."

"Oh," he said and gave a slight shrug. "I don't know. I think they mentioned her name or something, but I didn't really pay much attention to it. I mean, it's horrible what happened and all, but… I've got my own problems, you know?" He sat at his desk and put on a pair of headphones to block out the sound of the news and possibly the conversation Tony and I would have next.

Tony grabbed me by the arm and pulled me over to his desk. "Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal – but guess who died in that fire," he said lowly.

"Who?"

"Guess," he said seriously.

"Anyone we know personally?"

"Well… yes and no. Just guess, Ziva."

I searched my mind for the people I had met since I moved to America. Nothing really stood out, so I gave up and said, "I do not know, Tony. Just tell me."

"Does Mrs. Hassan from Egypt ring a bell?"

At first, I had no idea what he was talking about. Then, a few seconds later, it clicked. "Oh, my God," was the only thing I could think to say since I already knew how she died.

"Yeah. I know."

"You are serious?"

"This is not funny, Ziva. I'm being dead serious right now."

My head was reeling now. "Oh, my God," I said again.

"The news has been saying that it seemed like she left her stove on and probably forgot about it, which eventually led to the house fire. What are the odds that we go on Saturday to her house, find out something about her that _might just_ have a connection with someone you dealt with back in your early Mossad days, and Monday morning, we find she's been 'accidentally' killed by a house fire?" I was going to say something, but he beat me to it. "This is not just a random happening, Ziva. And this woman's death was not an accident. Someone or something killed her, and we can't investigate it. It'll be ruled as an accident, and she has nothing to do with the Navy."

I sighed in response, but was interrupted again by Gibbs, who stepped into the bullpen, a cup of coffee in hand. "Turn it off," he said.

Tony quickly scrambled to turn the screen off as I went back to my desk.

"Sorry, boss," he apologized. "Just tryna catch up a little on life's events, you know, since we're always here."

Gibbs ignored him.

"We have a busy day anyway," he went on, "with the case of the dead woman…"

"She was a marine, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped.

"I know, but…. You want me to shut up, don't you?"

"Mmm-hmm."

The rest of the week turned worse and horrendously stressful as Abby became the prime suspect in a case that had NCIS under investigation. The whole thing delayed our already-exhausting case, and Tony and I were not that drastically behind Abby being a suspect. But before any of that chaos happened, however, Monday did not turn out as peachy as I had hoped it would. We continued working on the case of female marine Carrie Springer, in which her runaway husband's brother Brian Springer was trying to help us catch his brother because, according to him, his brother's actions were "completely unacceptable." He visited often, and he was nice and friendly and had something in common with everyone on the team, or so we thought – until he tried to kill us. But that was also a completely different story.

Gibbs had been out on a coffee break, and McGee was in Abby's lab, which left me and Tony alone in the bullpen. I was trying to get our crapload of paperwork done, but Tony kept distracting me. He would send me texts every few minutes that continuously said hello. At one point, he sent me an e-mail, threw a crumbled up piece of paper at my head, and told me to open it and read it.

I was glad I did, because it was the highlight of my day and week, considering it only got worse from then on.

_You are beautiful. I love you. :)_

I could not help but smile and get out of my chair after reading his e-mail. One side of me was hoping that Gibbs would never find that message, even though we all knew Gibbs seldom used his e-mail. But it was better to be safe than to be sorry – especially around Gibbs.

I took full advantage of Gibbs's absence and his constant coffee runs and made my way over to Tony's desk. I sat down on his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck, and gave him a kiss on the lips. He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around my waist and simply returned the kiss, smiling against me. I loved when he did that, but our moment did not last long.

"Aww, what a sweet and touching moment. I thought there was a rule against dating co-workers."

We turned to the ever-sarcastic voice that belonged to none other than Carla. She was leaning against the wall that separated our teams, arms folded against her chest, giving us a smug glare. I wanted to take Tony's _Mighty Mouse_ stapler and throw it at her ugly face.

"She still exists?" Tony muttered quietly so only I could hear.

"Don't get mad at me," she went on. "That's what Agent David told me." I did not bother to correct her mispronunciation of my last name. I knew she was doing it on purpose to get on my nerves, and I could not let her know that every time someone pronounced my last name the wrong way, it made my blood boil. She would enjoy it too much.

"It's one of Agent Gibbs's rules or something."

"Don't you have something better to do?" Tony spat at her.

"I do," she nodded, completely deadpan. "Don't you? Well, actually, yes, you do. You two could probably be screwing the living daylights out of each other instead of being here. Since you didn't want to do it with me, Agent DiNozzo, I assume you banged her pretty badly already. Same for you, David. I'm pretty sure you rode him like you would Splash Mountain in Disney." I, again, held back the urge to correct her. "I hope you two get an STD. It would serve you right."

"And what would serve _you_ right, you two-timing, cheating slut?" Tony retorted.

She merely scoffed to herself and turned back to work at her desk.

I knew Tony was angry by the way he had tensed up against me. I turned to him and planted a hand on his cheek. "Ignore her, Tony," I told him quietly. "Remember, she feeds off attention, and the more you give it to her, the more satisfied she feels." He did not answer me as he shifted his gaze elsewhere. "She'll go away eventually." I pressed a small kiss to his forehead, feeling him relax just a little.

There was at least a minute or so of silence as I let him relax, running my hand softly through his hair to help. Then the peace was momentarily disrupted.

Abby came storming into the bullpen, opposite the elevator. I could hear her loud and angry footsteps as she came charging towards us. But she was not angry at _us_. I knew McGee had told her about what had been bothering him, and I knew she was beyond pissed off. I also knew I had to do something to stop her before she got into trouble with Vance again.

"YOU ARE SO DEAD, YOU FILTHY BITCH!" she yelled, grabbing everyone's attention, except Carla's. She passed McGee's and Gibbs's desk, but she did not get far when I blocked her way.

"Get the hell out of my way, Ziva, or I'm taking you down with me!" she snarled.

"Like hell you are," I grumbled and dragged her ass over to and into the elevator. She was so much stronger when she was angry than the usual. She struggled against my grip, screaming out at Carla, who only looked up and smirked at her in contentment. People were still staring, and poor Tony was rooted to his spot in his chair, completely unsure of what to do. As much as I would not have minded seeing Carla get her ass kicked by someone, I knew I had to stop Abby from doing so. We had already gotten in trouble once for fighting with her, and the second time, as I learned before, was not always the charm. I was not about to let Abby get suspended for something dumb.

We went into the elevator, very much against her will, and I flipped the switch, bringing the elevator to a complete stop. Abby angrily turned to me.

"What the HELL, Ziva!" she demanded, her face mere inches away from mine.

"If you start a fight with her, you will get in trouble with Vance."

"Since when do you give a shit about whether I get in trouble with Vance or not!"

"I don't," I said.

There was double the anger in her eyes. Had I not been doing that on purpose, I would have been scared. I may have had a reason to be. She slapped me in the face for that. "Do you know what that bitch did!" Her voice and face did not show any signs of her actually completely realizing what she had just done.

"No," I lied. "Why don't you tell me?"

"She freakin' kissed McGee! And she has the nerve to show her face at work!"

I shrugged. "Maybe McGee wanted to kiss her." That only made her angrier.

"_Excuse_ me!"

I did not think she could get any closer, but I was wrong. She did. She was giving me that intense glare that I hated. "What are you tryna say? That McGee doesn't love me? That he was hoping for her to call him over so that he could get a chance to kiss her?"

I shrugged. "Why not?" I said. "She's pretty. She has every guy wrapped around her finger. Is there a reason McGee would not want to kiss her?"

The second slap was harder and split my lip. She practically used me as a punching bag in the elevator, and I let her. I was mostly doing it for her own good. I let her wear herself out and take her anger out on me, so that by the time she was done, she would not have any strength to go kick Carla's ass. At least I would not be a snitch and go tell Vance that she used me as a punching bag. And I preferred that she take her anger out on me than on someone else and then get into a great amount of trouble for it.

Abby went on to her lab, and I took off back to the bullpen. Everyone was working again, save for a few people who were looking over at me curiously. I tried to make a run for the bathroom, but that did not go unnoticed by Tony, who grabbed my arm and stopped me in my tracks.

"Ziva!" his voice was hushed but laced with fury. "What the _hell?_" He barely gave me any time to explain. I was going to say that it was no big deal, but he interrupted with, "Bathroom. Now."

We went into the men's bathroom. I took a good look in the mirror. My face was flushed, but there was a faint handprint from Abby's slaps on my cheek. The corner of my bottom lip was dark and swollen, followed by a few blood tracks that dripped off my chin. I turned the sink faucet on as Tony handed me a paper towel. I dried off the blood from my chin, but the dark area on my lip was anything but unnoticeable.

"Ziva, what happened to you?" Tony asked.

"Nothing, Tony. It is no big deal," I said.

He crossed his arms. "No big deal? Abby comes screaming into the bullpen, you take her into the elevator, and when you come out, you're bleeding and red all over. That doesn't sound like _nothing_ to me!"

I told him what had happened, for some reason thinking that he would understand and be somewhat okay about it. I figured that since Abby knew about Carla kissing McGee, it would not matter if I told him about it. If anything, he was even angrier than before. "It's not anyone's fault that she can't keep her emotions in check and sort things out like a normal, civilized human being! That's no excuse to be taking it out on you!"

Perhaps he was right, but as crazy as it sounded, I still allowed it to happen. I could snap Abby's neck like a twig in no time if I wanted to, but I had not. Still, Tony did not care about that. He did not appreciate Abby slapping me around. I told him to let it go, which he found hard to do, but still did. Or at least he pretended to let it go.

"You can't hide it from Gibbs, Ziva," he reminded me. "It's noticeable. What are you gonna say?"

I had no idea. I could not tell him that Abby did it because he would ask why and eventually find out that she and McGee had been dating for quite some time now. I was not going to say that Tony hit me either, but I could not say that I hit myself. I could not think of anything to say. "I don't know," I admitted. "Do you think he will believe me if I said I fell against a doorknob?"

"No, he wouldn't. He's Gibbs. He's not stupid."

"If he's not stupid, he would already know Abby did it."

"Good point."

And good point, indeed. Gibbs knew, because, well, he was Gibbs. He did not bring it up after Tony and I returned to the bullpen, and for a moment I thought maybe he had not noticed. But by the time he was ready to go, he mentioned it. It was ten o' clock, and Tony and McGee were not at their desks. Gibbs and I were the only ones in the bullpen.

He neared my desk and said, "Don't let Abby manipulate you, Ziver."

I looked at him, surprised. "What?" I said stupidly.

"Your lip," he said. "I know she did that."

"Oh." I shifted uncomfortably in my chair under his piercing gaze. "How did you know?"

"DiNozzo and McGee wouldn't do that to you. You wouldn't do that to yourself either."

"Ducky and Palmer?"

"Not even if you paid them."

I sighed in response.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" he asked.

"I… cannot."

"If you need to talk, Ziver… I'm right here."

"Thank you, Gibbs," I said and dropped it. I did not want him to know, although I knew he would eventually figure it out. He always did. He continued to glare at me and linger at my desk for a few more seconds before turning and leaving. Neither one of us said good night to the other. It was not exactly a habit of his to say good night to his team. He said it every once in a while, but tonight was not one of those nights.

A few minutes after he was gone, McGee came into the bullpen, and without uttering a word, he came into my desk and stood beside me. He spoke a few moments after. "So, Ziva," he began, "I heard that you think I wanted to kiss Carla."

I stopped doing what I was doing.

"I honestly don't know if I should laugh at that and ignore it or be really pissed off."

"McGee, I did not mean that."

"It's what Abby told me. Or are you trying to tell me that she lied to me?"

"She was not lying." Not on purpose, at least.

"Then you're lying."

"No."

He sounded frustrated then. "Okay, _one_ of you is clearly lying!" He paused for a moment and then spoke again, "Ziva, what happened to your lip?"

I hesitated for a bit, but then went on to tell him the exact same thing I told Tony. I said that I let Abby take her anger out on me so that she would not get in trouble for kicking Carla's ass. But I did not truly believe that he wanted to kiss her. That was just to get Abby angry – well, angrier than she already was.

"Oh, God," he groaned, as though this were something to severely stress over. "Ziva, I'm so sorry that Abby did this. She's just…"

I cut him off. "It is fine, McGee. I do not want to see Abby get in trouble with Vance for something that could be far worse than it is. You do not have to apologize for it."

"Yeah, but…"

He was once again interrupted, this time by Tony who came walking into the bullpen. "Zeeeee-vaaaah…" his voice rang out in a playful manner. Both McGee and I turned to look at him as he went to his desk, shut his computer down, and grabbed his things to go. "Let's go home, sweets, I'm tired."

McGee raised an eyebrow. "Home?" he repeated. "Are you two living together?"

"No," Tony and I said in unison.

"Oh," he said. "So…"

"We stay at each other's house sometimes, McNosy," Tony said. "Especially after long days like these when we don't feel like being separated."

When he put it like that, I thought to myself that we might as well just move in together. But it was late, and we were both tired, as usual, and I was not going to bring it up now. Tony did not bring it up right away either. McGee simply nodded and said, "Okay. Just asking. Sorry if that bothers you."

"It is fine, McGee. Good night," I said to him.

Tony and I walked out when we were done grabbing our stuff. As we made our way to the elevator, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in towards him. I rested my forehead against his shoulder for a moment, taking in the light scent of him that still lingered in his clothing. He kissed the top of my head before the elevator dinged and we went in. We decided to stay at his apartment, not caring that I had nothing but what I had on me to bring with me. I only had a toothbrush at his apartment, and I supposed that would have to be enough.

My mind was still reeling from the day's events, most notably, Mrs. Hassan's mysterious and supposedly accidental death. But nothing could have ever prepared us for the horrible day we were going to have the next day.


	25. A Deadly Lunch Break

Thanks, everyone, for the reviews last chapter. :) Short chapter here, sorry about that. But I think most of you will like it. :)  
>Enjoy and review!<p>

…..

:: Chapter 25 – A Deadly Lunch Break ::

I noticed that Tony and Abby seemed to be mad at each other the next day.

For the most part, I was avoiding her. I was not mad at her, but I simply did not want to be around her, nor did I want to speak to her. When she came into the bullpen before Gibbs arrived, she and Tony were snapping at each other every chance they got. McGee only seemed amused at this, and although I asked no questions and made no comments, I was wondering what went on between them that got them acting like that.

Then I realized that Abby was kind of avoiding me, too. She did not openly come up to my desk and say something, and she did not make any eye contact. While tensions were not exactly high between the four of us, things were still weird. Abby and Tony had this brother and sister relationship that continued to show and be present, no matter how much they might have seemed to want to rip each other's head off.

When Gibbs arrived, we were all back to work on the Carrie Springer case, which beyond-proved to take a toll on us. It was around half an hour after noon when Tony and I decided to take our lunch break. McGee had left for his lunch break about twenty minutes earlier, presumably going with Abby. Gibbs did not say anything in protest, but I assumed that with us gone, he would go take a coffee break. Again.

"Anything specific you wanna eat?" Tony asked me.

I shook my head. "Not really. You can choose."

"Wendy's sound good? 'Cause it sounds like heaven to me right now."

I chuckled a little at him. "Wendy's is fine."

We ordered from the drive-thru, and after we did, Tony parked in the Wendy's parking lot. We took out our food from the bag and began eating.

"Don't you just hate," Tony began, "when you watch a food commercial and they show you the way the food's supposed to come out, and when you buy it, it doesn't look anything like the way they show you in the commercial? I mean, really, look at this." He held up his measly cheeseburger for me to see. "How can _anyone_ eat this and be satisfied?"

"Why did you not buy more then?"

"I bought two. And besides… they're fattening."

I let out an unceremonious laugh, to which he responded by glaring at me. "That's not funny, Ziva."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I did not mean to laugh out loud like that."

He quickly changed the subject. "You think I'm getting too fat?"

"No. Why? Did someone tell you that?"

"No. Just asking. So you don't think I'm fat?"

"No, Tony, you are just fine." I wrapped up the rest of my half-eaten burger and was about to put it inside the Wendy's bag when Tony stopped me and asked me if I was going to finish eating the hamburger. I told him I was not that hungry anymore and gave him the hamburger. He asked me if I was okay. I was fine. I just could not shake the feeling that something was about to happen.

I ate some fries instead. There was a silence between us that did not last long. "Tony?" I said.

"Yeah?" he said as he looked at me.

"What is going on with you and Abby?"

"What do you mean?" he asked quickly as he shoved his hand inside the bag to reach for more fries. "Abby and I are just fine."

"Really? So you two were snapping at each other in the bullpen just for the heck of it?" I said sarcastically.

He stuffed his mouth with a fries and took a huge bite of his burger. He said something, but I could not understand anything. "Tony, I have no idea what you just said," I told him. He repeated whatever he said, but I still did not understand anything. I waited for him to swallow his food so that he could speak again.

"I may have… confrontedheraboutsomething."

I stopped for a moment until it all made sense. I was hoping it was not what I was thinking it was. "Tony, tell me you did not butt into what happened yesterday," I groaned.

"Okay, yes," he said defensively. "So what?"

"_Tony,_" I groaned again.

"What's the problem, Ziva?" he shot back. "I don't know about _you_, but I don't exactly take it too well when I hear that someone's been hitting my girlfriend around just because she freakin' feels like it!"

"Well, what did you say to her?"

He did not answer, which only led me to think that he probably said something bad.

"Tony?"

Still no answer.

"Tony, what did you say to Abby?" I asked again.

"I _may_ have told her – _may_ have – that I would… rip Bert to shreds right in front of her after I tied her up to a chair if she ever did that again."

I rolled my eyes, but I could not help but chuckle a little at that. Though torturous and possibly traumatizing for her, the image of Abby tied to a chair as Tony ripped Bert apart was kind of funny. Not that I ever wished that would happen, but it was still kind of funny. Tony looked at me as though he could not believe that I was laughing when I was supposedly supposed to be irritated or in disbelief. "What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," I shrugged. "I guess it's kind of funny. You did not threaten to hit her, did you?"

"Come on. Would I hit a woman? I mean, don't get me wrong – Abby deserves a good smack to the face every now and then that she starts to act stupid, but still. I wouldn't hit her. Besides, you'd do the same thing for me. Right?"

As much as I mostly disliked the fact that he dragged himself into this situation, I could not deny that I would do it for him, too. I would not have liked it if he had been in my shoes and McGee had been the one hitting him.

"Yes, you are right."

Tony finished downing his burger silently, and as he did, I watched everything that was going on inside. People were walking around us, to the point where it looked almost like rush hour. In the sidewalk across from where we were parked, a woman was walking by with a pink tank top and light blue short shorts. I thought to myself that she was crazy wearing all that in the weather we were having. It was about forty-five degrees. It almost made me cold just looking at her.

"She's probably a slut," Tony mumbled with his mouth full. "Going over to her next customer's house."

"That is a pretty hasty generalization, Tony," I said. "How would you know she's a slut? Just by the way she is dressed?"

"Yep."

I began to say something, but was cut off mid-sentence. To say we were horrified at what we saw next was a bit of an understatement. Tony and I stared in shock as the same woman he called a slut was hit by an oncoming car. I could swear I heard a sickening crack even from that distance. The car, after hitting her, killing her instantly, sped off. We did not have any time to be able to get the car's license plate or anything because it all happened so fast – not to mention it was practically a blur.

My initial reaction was to stare in shock with my mouth hanging wide open, not that I could help it. I was also frozen in my spot. I could not move at all. Tony was in shock, too, but he reacted much quicker than I. He actually gave me a shove to pull me out of whatever trance-like state I was in and told me to get out of the car.

Despite the forty-degree weather and the coat I had on, it felt like it was ninety degrees outside. I was automatically in auto-pilot mode. We ran over to where the woman was. She was lying on the sidewalk, her legs and arms twisted in ways that were disturbing to just think about. A crowd was forming around her, and some people around us were screaming. I blocked out all the noise around me, only focusing on anything and everything Tony was saying.

My heart was in my throat by the time we reached her. Two things hit me instantly. Her face seemed to be disfigured and there was blood all over her face. I knew where I had seen _that_ before – the picture we had seen of the dead woman. It was her.

I knew who she was. I was not sure I wanted it to be true or not, but I still knew. It was weird that in the picture she was unrecognizable, but one good look at her, and I already knew who she was.

I looked over at Tony, whose expression was unreadable, as odd as it sounded. "Tony…" I began, my throat feeling extremely dry.

"Ziva, call Gibbs," he said shortly. "I'll try to keep everyone out."

I nodded, not being able to take my eyes off her. I reached for my phone in my pocket. It felt like hours before I found it. Luckily, Gibbs was in my speed dial, because I did not think I could dial any number at that moment. My hands were shaking beyond belief, although that was something I did not notice until later on.

She died a horrible death, something I would not wish on anyone. But sometimes, I could not figure out if I was truly glad or not that Agent Carla Emilia was dead and that she deserved to die that horrible and tragic way.


	26. I Shot the Sheriff

Hi, everyone, thanks for reviewing in the last chapter :) I apologize for the long chapter, guys. I thought about splitting it in half, but I didn't want to end up dragging this out more than I already am.  
>Also, there's a flashback in here in present tense. I just figured since it's being told from someone else's point of view, I'd do that instead. I think that is all. Enjoy and review!<p>

…..

:: Chapter 26 – I Shot the Sheriff ::

Gibbs and Director Vance had this look like they wanted to kill someone. Vance seemed to be angrier than Gibbs, and for some reason, I could not figure out why. There were so many questions and thoughts running through my mind the moment I stepped into Vance's office, and for once, it did not help that Tony had not said anything since we were on our way back to NCIS. There was obvious and clear turmoil amongst everyone, which did not aide either in anything.

"Agent DiNozzo, Agent David," Vance said, his calm voice betraying the hard look on his face, "I want to hear everything that happened. And do _not _leave out any details."

Tony began to tell them what happened, and so far, everything was right on – until he mentioned the car color. He said it was blue, but I begged to differ, cutting him off right away.

"It was white," I said, turning to face him.

He looked over at me. "It was blue," he said.

"No, it was white. I remember seeing something white."

"How can you tell me it was white when it was blue!" he argued.

"Because I was there," I argued back. "It was white!"

"You could hardly even move after what happened! I had to pull you out of your thoughts or you would still be sitting there in shock. How could you have possibly seen the car's color? It was _blue_."

"Just because I was in shock does not mean I was not there," I retorted. "The stupid car was white."

"It was _blue!_"

"White!"

"Blue!"

Gibbs interrupted us with an angry, "Hey!" It was enough to make us both stop arguing and turn back to face him and the director. They did not look too happy with us arguing over the color of the car that hit and killed Agent Emilia. Indeed, the color of the car was important in helping us find whoever hit her, but if we had both seen different colors, then it was going to make this whole thing harder for us.

We were released soon after from Vance's office, and the moment we stepped out, McGee and Abby were standing by the door, trying to listen in on the conversation that had been going on. Their eyes were wide and surprised, their facial expressions not really sure of what to make of everything that was happening.

"Are you guys okay?" McGee asked as the four of us walked out and made our way down the stairs. "What the hell happened?"

"What do you think happened, Captain Obvious?" Tony snapped at him. "Agent Emilia was hit by a car, and she was killed. Gibbs and Vance wanted to talk to us to hear the full story."

"So who's over at the crime scene?"

"I don't know."

"Okay, so what happened?" McGee asked again.

"Are you _not listening,_ McDeaf?"

"I mean when she was killed, Tony," he said patiently. "Where you were, what you were doing… everything."

I calmly explained to him and Abby what happened, because Tony was in a bad mood of some sort. I really had no idea why. I could understand that he was a little shaken up like I was, but it still did not really explain why he seemed to be so angry. McGee and Abby were looking at me a little weirdly, but I could not decipher the look on their faces.

Abby went back to her lab shortly thereafter, and McGee, Tony, and I went back to our desks. There was still an indistinctive chatter among the entire squad room – or, at least, there were so many things running through my mind at that moment, that everything around me sounded indistinct to me.

I could hardly concentrate on anything afterwards. I tried to busy myself with paperwork, but that did not work. I found myself stopping what I was doing and looking around constantly. I was not really sure what Tony was doing. He was not looking at me directly; instead, he was looking down at whatever he was doing at his desk. He never once spared a glance at me.

I went back to what I was doing, or trying to do, until I heard McGee call me. I looked up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked me.

"Why?"

"You just keep acting like a nervous wreck. You keep shifting in your chair."

Tony had not bothered to look our way. I had not realized I was shifting in my chair so much.

"Right," I said. "Umm, sorry."

Eventually, Gibbs came down from Vance's office and sent me and Tony home. I had not realized how much I was shaking until I picked up my gear to go home. Tony and I took the elevator in silence and left the building, not saying a word to each other. He went in his car, and I left in mine. For once, I was driving like a slowpoke, but Tony, on the other hand, who took off before me, seemed to be driving normally. I could not figure out what was up with him.

When I got home, I tried to take a nap. _Tried._ I lay down in bed and willed myself to fall asleep. I tried rubbing my eyes to make them want to stay shut, but that did not work. I pulled the covers of my bed over myself, but that did not work either. Nothing did. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was Carla being hit by that car and ending up dead. I was still not sure what to feel about that, but so far, there was nothing great about it.

Sometime later on, I actually began to drift off into sleep a little. I must have been half awake and half asleep. I woke up abruptly to the sound of a car slamming into someone – then I realized that I was just dreaming. When I looked at my phone, I saw that it was around three in the afternoon. I had no idea I was out for so long. I felt like I had been sleeping for twenty minutes only.

I also saw that I had no missed calls or anything. I was so tempted to call Tony and ask what the hell was up his ass that day. He could not have been mad about our disagreement on the color of the car that killed Carla, could he? Sometimes, I had no idea what was going on through his head, but sooner or later, he was going to have to tell me.

I went for a bath next. It was even a miracle that I could stay up on my feet long enough to reach the bathroom. I filled the bathtub with water almost to the top and slowly got in. I had brought my phone, a towel, and some new clothes with me, which I set down on the floor beside the tub. I had no idea how long I had been in the tub until I checked my phone again. It was about six in the afternoon, I had dozed off once again, and there was a knock on my door. I groaned and got out of the shower, letting the water go down the drain. As I wrapped a towel around myself, my phone began to ring. It only made me irritated, feeling like I had no idea what to do first.

The screen flashed with the caller ID, informing me that Tony was calling. I answered the phone, juggling that and drying myself off and trying to get dressed.

"Hey," Tony said, sounding a little solemn himself.

The knocking on the door continued, but I ignored it for the time being. I could not actually get to it at that moment when I felt like I was doing so many things at once. "Hi," I said, also ignoring everything that I wanted to say to him.

"You home?"

_Where else would I be?_ "Yes."

"Good."

"Why?"

"I just thought maybe you would want to spend the night at my house tonight. So you're not alone."

"Okay." I could not believe how calm I was. "When do you want me to get there?"

"Uhh, Ziva, I'll… I'll come pick you up."

"Why?" I asked again.

He decided to come out with it. "It's just… I don't mind you coming over, but… you drive too fast, and… I don't want anything kind of like today to happen…"

I held back any answer that would have seemed appropriate at that moment, but ended up hanging up on him. I did not exactly want to, but I felt that, in some way, I had to. Either way, I would have had to put him on hold or something, because the next thing I knew, I was hearing my front door being opened by whoever was knocking before. I quickly finished putting on the rest of my clothing, ignoring the fact that I hadn't dried myself off as well as I would have liked, and rushed out the bathroom door.

I was relieved to see that McGee and Abby were coming through my door. And I was horrified to see that it was McGee and Abby who were seeing me like that.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"You weren't answering the door," McGee said.

"So what?" I snapped. "I was busy."

"Well, I thought we'd come in to see if you were okay."

"How did you get in?" I wanted to know. "The door was locked."

"I know," he said. "I've seen you open locked doors with hair pins before. I used one of Abby's hair pins and let ourselves in."

"Well, I'm not done getting ready. So I have to finish that."

"Getting ready for what?" McGee asked me.

"Tony is coming to pick me up. I am staying at his apartment tonight."

He nodded. I excused myself and went back into the bathroom to finish getting ready. A few minutes after I went into the bathroom, I heard the knob turn slowly. I started at it, already having an idea of who it was. The door was opened a bit, and a face peeked in a little. It was Abby.

"What? I am getting dressed," I said. I sounded a little snappier than I intended, but I could care less at that moment.

"I know. Sorry," she said. She came in anyway and closed the door behind her. "Wow, is it warm in here or is it just me?" she said with a small smile.

I stared at her.

"That… was a joke, Ziva…" she said, her smile fading.

"What do you want, Abby?"

"I… I wanted to apologize for acting like a total jerk yesterday," she said. I looked at her through her reflection in the mirror. She looked about as ashamed as only she could get. "Tim explained to me what you did and why you did it. So that I wouldn't get in trouble with Vance over something pretty dumb. I was just really, really pissed."

"You are always really pissed, Abby," I found myself saying. "You are always moody. One minute you are fine, and the next, you are in an extremely irritable mood. Are you pregnant or something?"

She frowned. "I'm not pregnant. I just… I always have a lot on my mind. Lots of things. Any little thing can make my day, just as it can ruin it for me. Anyway, I know that's no excuse for what I did. And I'm sorry. I realize I've always been such a jerk to you, and you've always been really nice to me."

"Every time you say that, you end up doing something worse than the last."

"Ziva," Abby whined. "I'm sorry; I really am! And I'm sorry for busting your lip. That was unfortunate."

"That was you."

She sighed. "Okay, if you're trying to tell me that I'm a bitch, I get it. I really do."

"You are not a bitch, Abby. You act like one sometimes, but you are not one."

"Okay," she said. She closed her eyes and brought her face close to mine.

"What are you doing?"

"Slap me."

"Excuse me?"

"Slap me," she repeated.

"I'm not going to slap you. Why would I slap you?"

"For slapping _you!_" she said. "Come on. Just do it. I can take it."

"No, you can't. I am not going to slap you."

"Come on, please?" She grabbed my hand, trying to bring me to do it. Instead, I took that very arm, twisted it behind her back, and slammed her against the door. Her eyes flew open in surprise and shock.

"Happy?" I said.

"Umm…" She really did not know what to say.

"Cuz if you ever slap me like that again, Abby, you are dead. _Dead._"

She smiled, despite the fact that I had her pinned against the door. "I love you, Ziva. You know, as a friend." I released her. She turned around and hugged me. "I guess I deserved that. We're cool now?"

"Yes. Let's get out of here now. I am suffocating."

We both stepped out, and when Tony came, I left with him. I should have cared, but did not, that I left Abby and McGee alone in my house. I only warned them to wash the sheets if they did anything – oh, and to leave things clean and where they were. Tony had never been irritated with me; he had just been stressed out a little about what we had both seen. We went to bed soon after we arrived at his place. He had his arms around me, his face nuzzled into my neck, one leg draped over mine. His breathing was slow and rhythmic and soothing, but I knew he was not really sleeping. Neither one of us could sleep well after what we had seen that day.

* * *

><p>The next day, Abby surprised everyone with drinks from Starbucks. She was in an oddly giddy mood that morning as she handed everyone their lattes. Even Gibbs accepted his latte, setting it on his desk, right next to the coffee he already had.<p>

"Thank you, Abby," McGee said. "But why are you getting us these?"

"Because," she said as she wrapped him up in an unexpected hug, "you guys are my bestest friends ever! And I thought I would do something nice to start the morning out right."

"Good coffee," Gibbs remarked, not looking up from his computer.

"Actually, boss, it's a latte," McGee put in helpfully. When Gibbs shot him a look, he cowered and little and said, "Not that it matters…"

Tony and I thanked her for the lattes, and I noticed that she and Tony seemed to be okay with each other. I had no idea if they talked and worked things out. He never told me if he did or did not. But, either way, I was glad that they seemed to be getting along once again. I hated it when we fought or argued or got mad at each other.

The happiness did not last long. I should have seen _that_ one coming.

Before any of us knew what was happening, and before Abby could go back down to her lab, every computer in the bullpen was being shut down. Everyone exchanged confused looks with each other, wondering what was happening, but knowing at the same time that this was something that had actually happened before. Agent Fornell stepped into the bullpen, along with other FBI agents.

Gibbs looked annoyed, to say the least. "What's going on, Tobias?" he asked.

Fornell just laughed a little. "Oh, come on, Gibbs. Don't tell me you don't remember what happened the last time _this_ happened."

"NCIS is under investigation?" Tony guessed.

"That's correct, DiNutzzo."

"Why?" McGee asked.

"As you all know, Agent Carla Emilia was hit and killed yesterday by a car." Tony and I exchanged brief glances at that, but continued to listen to him. "I've had the, uhh… _pleasure_… of meeting her before hand, and let's just say, I know she can be a little tough sometimes." _Sometimes? Well… not anymore, clearly._ "She's been working here for a little while, so we had to start here."

He looked at Abby. "Miss Sciuto, you're our first suspect in this investigation."

Abby almost choked on the latte she was drinking. "Excuse me?" she stuttered. "I'm your _what?_"

Everyone was, naturally, surprised. Gibbs was being his slightly overprotective self at that moment. "What the hell do you mean Abby's your suspect?"

"You heard right, Agent Gibbs," Fornell said.

"How am I your suspect?" Abby cut in. "You think I killed that stupid bitch?"

He blinked. "Miss Sciuto, when we accessed Agent Emilia's e-mail account, there was an e-mail from you threatening to kill her." She almost went paler than she already was at that. The four of us went quiet for a moment, not really sure what to say in response to that.

"Okay… I can explain that…" she said.

"I'd love to hear all about it," Fornell said. "In interrogation."

(-/-)

Gibbs was too angry to be around us. He was in autopsy, and I actually really felt bad for Ducky and Palmer who had to have been listening to his outbursts. Tony, McGee, and I were in the break room. Our computers were still shut off, but we decided to go to the break room and talk, because if we wanted to talk in the bullpen, there were more chances of people hearing us since we had to talk louder. We did not have anything to hide, but we still wanted to be cautious.

McGee said that there was no way Abby could have killed Carla. She had been with him getting lunch at the time she was killed, but it was not like she could not have still been involved. Of course, I did not believe that Abby would sink as low as to kill someone, much less when she worked and was part of a federal agency, but to the FBI, anything was virtually possible.

"She's gonna say something stupid," McGee said suddenly. The latte Abby had gotten him was in his hands, but he could not bring himself to drink it.

"What?" Tony asked him. He and I looked at our co-worker, who looked nervous and worried. I felt bad for him. I knew he did not do anything wrong either, but just seeing him so worried about his girlfriend made me really feel for him.

"Abby's going to say something stupid," he repeated. "I mean, really, talking is what she does best. She's going to say something that she shouldn't and get herself in more trouble than she probably already is in."

"But, McGee, if she did not do anything wrong," I tried to reason with him, "then it should not matter what she says, right?"

"It _shouldn't _matter," Tony added. "But you know how Abby is. She never stops talking. I'd be concerned, too – even if she didn't do it."

"She _didn't_ do it, Tony," McGee snapped at him, obviously irritated. "She was with me." He sighed. "Gibbs is going to find out about us. I just know it. We are so dead, no matter which way you put it."

"Did you know about the e-mail, McGee?"

He looked at me and shook his head. "No. She never mentioned anything to me about sending Carla an e-mail. I have no idea what that e-mail could possibly say. I'm not sure I want to know. Knowing her and how angry she was, I'm assuming it wasn't anything good." He paused for a moment. "I have to go to the bathroom." He stood up from his chair and left, leaving his latte behind.

Tony and I sat in silence for a little bit. I could already tell the rest of the week was going to be hell, and this was just the beginning. Tony took my hand in his and gave it a small squeeze. I returned it half-heartedly. If Gibbs found out about McGee and Abby's relationship, there was always a possibility he would find out about ours. I had a feeling that that was not going to be the only thing that would go wrong this week.

"Abby's going to be fine, Ziva. I know she talks and talk and talks and never shuts up, but… if she didn't kill Carla, she should be fine."

"I know," I said. "But they could still give her a hard time before they prove or disprove anything."

"She never should have sent that e-mail, then. Whatever it said."

"Obviously, it is not good if she's the main suspect in this investigation."

Tony sighed. "You'd think," he began, lowering his voice considerably, "that Carla being dead is a good thing, ya know? It's turning out to be much worse than I could have imagined. And I have a feeling that she was very much disliked by everyone who met her."

"She once said her mother's dead," I pointed out. "Could have committed suicide."

We laughed quietly. He put his arm around me, and I leaned into him. McGee came out of the bathroom eventually and sat back down at the table. We waited. Mostly, we were waiting for Gibbs to come and update us on something, _anything_. I dozed off a few times, burying my face into Tony's chest, but I could hardly sleep. It was too stressful.

(-/-)

We had no idea how long we had been waiting. It had been hours. Abby eventually came out and found us. I did not know what time it was, but it had been a while. McGee was the first one who came up to her, dumping a truckload of questions on her. Tony and I also got up, asking her a few questions. We were all curious to know what had happened and what was going to happen.

"I'm free to go," Abby told us. "They were able to confirm my alibi after I told them like a million times. I don't think they're convinced that I didn't do it, but there was absolutely no physical evidence that led to me. Or at all."

"How'd the interrogation go?" McGee asked her.

"That went fine. I'm scared of what Gibbs will do. I hear he's really mad."

"Why?"

"Why not?" she said back. "He's gonna know about us, McGee. If he hasn't already found out, that is."

"Abby, what happened in interrogation?" Tony asked.

"Yeah, and what was up with that e-mail you sent Carla?" I put in.

She sighed. "Sit down," she said. We all took a seat at the table once again. "It's a long story."

_Abby is pacing back and forth, feeling nervous. She doesn't know how in the world the FBI could possibly think that she somehow killed Agent Carla Emilia, and she would really love to hear how they think she did. _

"_Miss Sciuto, you may sit down," Fornell says. _

_She sits. She squirms a little in her seat, still feeling nervous. Fornell stares at her. She glares back, wondering what she's doing wrong to have him stare at her in that way. _

"_Do you think you can sit still, Miss Sciuto?" _

_She can tell he's getting uncomfortable by her apparent lack of stillness. _

"_Sorry," she begins to say. "I haven't had a Caf-Pow today. I mean, I had a latte from Starbucks, but I guess that's not exactly the same thing, ya know? A girl's gotta have her Caf-Pow. But it's kind of hard these days because of Gibbs__–__"_

"Abby," Tony cut in, "can you get to the interrogation part, please?"

"Right. Sorry."

_Fornell opens the file that is set on the table right before him. He pulls out a piece of paper and sets it in front of her. "This is the e-mail that you sent Agent Emilia." _

_Abby does not respond. _

"_Cat got your tongue, Miss Sciuto? You're suddenly very quiet." _

_She still says nothing. Fornell takes the paper back from her and begins to read out loud: _

"'_Dear Stupid Bitch … you're lucky to even be alive right now. The only reason you're not lying on the floor right next to your desk, DEAD, is because Agent David just so felt the need to 'talk' me out of beating the shit out of you in the elevator. Otherwise, your brain would be cut up into little pieces and scattered all over the ground, and your blood would all over the walls by now. If I ever, and I emphasize EVER a billion times, hear that you kissed my boyfriend again by tricking him, I'm seriously going to kill you. Let's just say that you got out of this one easily. Next time, whore, you won't be so lucky. Sincerely, Abby.'"_

_Abby finally decides to speak. "I can explain that." _

"_I'm listening." _

_She sighs. "I was angry when I wrote that. She kissed my boyfriend. She tricked him. She's such a whore. See, not too long ago, Ziva and I were in Florida. There were lots of cases, and McGee and Gibbs couldn't hold the fort just the two of them. So they decided to – for some reason – ask that stupid bitch for her help. Long story short, she tricked McGee by telling him that she spotted something weird on the dead guy's shirt. So, he came over and when he leaned down, she kissed him!"_

"_You said that you and Agent David were in Florida…" _

"_Yeah." _

"_But that Agent Gibbs and Agent McGee couldn't hold the fort by themselves. Where was Agent DiNozzo?" _

"_In Florida with us." _

"_Go on." _

"_Okay. So when McGee told me about what stupid Carla had done, I just flipped. He probably didn't want to admit it, but he probably felt really stupid after she tricked him. So I went out into the bullpen and kind of lost it. Gibbs wasn't there, but Ziva and Tony were. So Ziva grabbed me and took me into the elevator."_

"_And then what happened?" _

"_Do I really have to say what happened between us?" _

"_For all I know, she could have helped you form a plan to kill Agent Emilia." _

"_Okay. Basically, she helped me keep my composure, so to speak. If she hadn't been there, I would have beaten the shit out of Carla and possibly gotten my ass fired. I'm not kidding. She took me into the elevator and let me use her as a… punching bag… to release my anger. She didn't want me to get in trouble with Vance, cuz last time we did get in trouble with Vance, and Carla got suspended. Oh, and I'm not kidding. Ziva has a bit of a busted lip. I may have slapped her too hard." _

"_You said you got in trouble last time with Director Vance. Tell me about that."_

_She does. She tells him about how Carla's unnecessary and rude comments got her suspended last time. She mentions the fight that made Vance furious. Fornell then reminds her about the outburst she had that caused her to write that threatening e-mail and about how she slapped me so hard, she split my lip. _

"_It seems like you have anger management problems, Miss Sciuto," he tells her. _

_That irks her. "I do not have anger management problems!" she yells, standing up from her chair. _

_Fornell stares at her, and she realizes that she looks like she really does have issues. She sits back down and takes a deep breath. "Look. Haven't you ever done something in the heat of the moment and then regretted it? I mean, I don't exactly regret sending Carla that e-mail, but, it's just a saying. It's like I used to tell my little brother when we were younger – well, actually, he's really my adoptive little brother, but still. Sometimes I told him, whenever he'd ruin something of mine that I really valued, that I'd kill him. And then I'd chase him around the house, but I never actually killed him. You just say it out of anger, but you don't really do it." _

"_But she kissed your boyfriend," Fornell says. "And you already had problems with her before. That must've been really upsetting. Why wouldn't you want to kill her?" _

"_Who _didn't!_ Everyone hated her! You know how some people are really charismatic, and you just love them right away? Well, Carla wasn't like that. Carla had a way to make people hate her from the moment she stepped into the room." _

_There is a moment of silence. _

"_Have you ever heard that song that says, 'I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy'?" _

McGee groaned. "Abby, tell me you didn't bring up that song to him."

She looked at him innocently. "What's wrong with bringing up the song?"

"It's a good song," Tony added.

"What song?" I asked, feeling completely lost.

"'I Shot the Sheriff,' by Bob Marley."

"I like the way the Jackson Five performed it in their variety show," Abby said. "It's really good with the dancing and all that."

"I do not get it." I looked over at Tony, hoping he would fill me in on whatever they were talking about.

"It doesn't matter, Ziva," McGee waved me off. He turned to Abby and cut her off before she could start singing snippets of the song. "Just finish the story, Abbs."

"_I have. What of it?" Fornell asks. _

"_Well, that song kind of describes me right now." _

"_I'm not following you," he admits. _

"_It's like right now, you're accusing me of having killed Agent Emilia, and I'm telling you – I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy!" _

_He still does not understand, and after a moment of silence, he makes that clear. "So you're saying that you killed her, but you didn't… I don't really understand what you're trying to say." _

_Abby rolls her eyes to create a dramatic effect. "Look, I'm saying – I know I threatened Agent Emilia and all, but I didn't kill her. Hence, 'I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.'"_

"_Miss Sciuto, I don't understand how that's relevant at all right now." _

"_It's _very_ relevant. You're accusing me of killing Agent Emilia. She was a bitch, yeah, but I only threatened her. I said it out of pure anger. I didn't kill her. For God's sake, I work in a federal agency. How stupid would I be to kill her?" _

_Fornell sighs and goes on to his next question. "Alright. Let's move on. Where were you on Tuesday between twelve-thirty and one-thirty in the afternoon?" _

"_I was having lunch with McGee." _

"_Where?" _

"_At this sandwich shop about half a mile away from here. One of the employees was talking nonstop to me and McGee. You could probably check out their security cameras. McGee and I were there at the time she was killed." _

"_I realize that since you are a forensic scientist, you could kill someone and not leave any evidence behind. Am I correct?" _

"_Yeah," Abby answers. "So what?" _

"_So what would make me think that even if your alibi checks out, you didn't have anything to do with her death?" _

"_Because I'd have a solid alibi! And because, man – I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy! Haven't you been listening?" _

_Fornell rolls his eyes, collects his file folder, and stands up and leaves the room, telling her to wait there. She ends up waiting in there for a few hours until they are able to confirm her alibi in the sandwich shop at the time of Carla's death. Despite the fact that she can clean up her evidence really well, they have absolutely nothing linking her to Carla's death. _

There was a moment of silence after Abby finished her story, before Tony said, "Now I feel like listening to Bob Marley."

Nobody paid attention to him. No one even had time to say anything else because Gibbs suddenly stepped into the break room, looking extremely furious. Tony probably would have cracked a joke about him waking up on the wrong side of the bed that morning or something along the lines of that, but it was obvious that it was too risky. I had seen Gibbs get mad before, but up till that moment, I had never seen him so angry. It looked like Abby would be his next victim.

To my surprise, he did not just call on her. "McGee, Abby," he said, venom lacing his voice. "Come with me. _Now_."

Neither one of them dared defy him at that moment. They both scurried off to follow Gibbs to wherever he would lead them. Once they were out of sight, I looked over at Tony, who returned the same look I wore on my face. We did not have a clue of what would happen.

"I think we should start making funeral arrangements," he said. "Not just for Carla, but for Abby and McGee, too. After that look on Gibbs's face, they are _so dead_."


	27. His Shirt

Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter!(: Not much to say here, other than I hope everyone can still read this even with the annoying new layout (no offense to those who like it). Enjoy!

…..

:: Chapter 27 – His Shirt ::

Perhaps we were risking our lives and everything else when we decided to stand outside Abby's lab and listen in to what Gibbs had to say to them. But, it seemed, when he was mad, his senses heightened. Tony and I quietly stood outside the lab door, where we could hear them, and a minute later, Gibbs poked his head out and stared at us intensely.

He did not have to say anything, and neither did we. He wanted us to get the hell out of there. We did.

Back in the bullpen, Tony and I went to our respective desks. He wasted no time in voicing his curiosity for the possible punishment and likely death of Abby and McGee. "What do you think Gibbs is doing to them?" he asked me.

"You mean besides yelling?"

"Yeah, besides that."

"Maybe reminding them about rule twelve." I looked up at him. He looked a little pale. Just a little – but it was enough for me to ask him if he was okay.

"Yeah, it's just… if Gibbs finds out about them, there's a _very high_ chance that he'll find out about us. And trust me, I do _not_ want to wake up one morning in a hospital bed right after surgery with a recently-removed boot up my ass."

I chuckled. "That is not going to happen, Tony."

"With Gibbs there's always a possibility."

Gibbs came back a little while later. There was no sign of McGee or Abby anywhere behind him. He did not mention anything either. He only had Abby's Caf-Pow in hand, which I knew was not a good thing at all. Without making any eye contact whatsoever, he said to us, "David, DiNozzo, go home." His voice left no room for arguing – not that we wanted to argue against that, anyway.

"Okay, boss," Tony said. He grabbed his things, and I grabbed mine. We waited for the elevator in silence, wondering what had happened in Abby's lab. Once we were in the elevator, and after the doors shut, Tony turned to me and said, "Did you see Gibbs with Abby's Caf-Pow? I mean, it's one thing to be super angry and stuff, but taking away her _Caf-Pow?_ God, he must extremely pissed off!"

"I would not have guessed," I said sarcastically.

He went on. "I was thinking about letting it go and just forget about whatever may have happened in there… but now I'm thinking I should definitely call McGee and ask! I'm sure Gibbs will send him home, too, right? I mean, he sent _us_ home… right?"

Later on at night, he called McGee up. We were in his apartment. Tony put the phone on speaker when McGee answered. We could hear sounds in the background, and I could only assume it was Abby who was making all that noise.

"Hey, McBusted! What happened today with Gibbs?" Tony asked.

"A lot, Tony," he answered, irritation evident in his voice.

"Does this 'a lot' include rule twelve?"

"…Yes," McGee mumbled.

"So what happened? I need to know, McDetail."

"You always need to know, Tony."

"Yeah, I do. Just tell me already."

He began with Gibbs pacing back and forth, right before him and Abby, making them even more nervous than they already were. Abby had tried to say something to get him to say something, and that was when he snapped. Before he got to rule twelve, he mostly yelled at Abby about her sending that e-mail to Carla, getting herself in trouble. She tried to protest that Carla was a troublemaker even after death, but that did not work with Gibbs. He was still pissed off. Then he dropped the rule twelve bomb on them, where they were forced to admit that they had been dating for a while behind his back. He was trying hard not to punch a wall, according to McGee. So he took Abby's Caf-Pow away from her and told her that she could only drink a Mini No-Caf-Pow during work hours whenever he said she could. She was, in retrospect, very depressed about that. More punishments lay ahead for them, but they did not know what.

"Are you guys still allowed to date then?" Tony asked them.

"That's the thing," McGee insisted. "We have no idea. Gibbs was mad that we broke one of his rules and went behind his back, but he didn't forbid us to see each other."

Tony and I glanced at each other.

"That could be a very bad thing," he said.

"Well, I don't care," Abby's voice suddenly came in. "Gibbs can put all the stupid rules that he wants in the universe, but there's no way I'm letting Timmy go just because one of his rules forbids us to date. Don't tell him I said this… but he can go shove that rule up his ass! He's just gonna have to accept us, and if he doesn't like it – tough!"

"Does he know about us, Abby?" Tony asked.

"No, he never asked," she said. "So we never told."

"Oh. Well… thanks."

"Enjoy your time now," McGee put in. "Because he _will_ find out eventually. He's the Almighty Gibbs. He sees all; he knows all."

"Shut up, McCreepy. You two have to worry about seeking forgiveness from Gibbs. I can't think of anything worse right now."

"Yeah? Well, I can: talking to _you_." With that, he hung up. I actually started laughing, but Tony just looked at me as if he could not believe that McGee just hung up on him. He was probably going to protest, too, but I stopped him by taking a hold of his hand.

"Tony, it is pretty late now. Let's take a shower?"

In the shower, neither one of us were particularly in the mood to do anything but shower. I did have something to say and figured there was no better time than that moment to ask. I turned to him, wrapped my arms around his waist and said, "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," he replied with a grin.

I caught him a little off-guard with my straightforwardness. "I want you to move in with me," I told him.

"What? You… want _me_… to move in with _you?_"

I wondered why he had to say it like that. _Me_ with _you_ – as if it tasted bitter in his mouth. Well, I was not going to beg. So I stared at him. And then I said, "You do not want to move in with me?"

"No, I mean… I do. It's just… I wasn't really expecting that. Normally, the guy asks the girl to move in with him first. It's not that the thought never crossed my mind, but I wasn't thinking of it right now."

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes, it's a yes."

"Good." I pulled him down towards me and kissed him on the lips. That mood to not do anything besides shower went away about as quickly as it came.

* * *

><p>As another form of punishment, amongst others that were sure to come, Gibbs took Abby's stuffed hippo away from her. Tony and I saw it on his desk the next morning when we came to work. When we asked McGee why Bert was there, after Gibbs had gone on one of his infamous coffee runs, he said that Gibbs took it away from her because of them breaking rule twelve and her sending that e-mail to Carla.<p>

The Mini No-Caf-Pow thing still stood. I could swear that Abby kind of looked like a zombie without her caffeinated drink. She was suffering.

"So what's your punishment, McGee?" Tony asked him.

McGee sighed as though it were a complicated thing. "Gibbs is making me… write a story. By hand."

Tony and I laughed. It was such an unusual punishment – but kind of funny, too.

"What kind of story?" I asked.

"About two co-workers who actually follow their boss's no dating rule," he muttered embarrassedly.

Tony and I could not stop laughing. McGee was embarrassed, but it was better than all the other punishments Gibbs had for him.

Not long after that, we were forced to attend Carla's funeral by Director Vance who could honestly care less about going, but thought it would be courteous of us to attend. It was pretty short. It was kind of boring. And, admittedly, our idea of fun was pretending to sob as if we were hurt by Carla's death. In reality, it was hilarious, and even Gibbs joined in on the fake crying. We were all laughing as we covered our faces to pretend-sob. We got several dirty looks from people and we were called out by Vance after the ceremony, but even he could not deny that he thought it was funny, too.

And after all that mess, Gibbs learned to accept McGee and Abby's rebellion against rule twelve. Begrudgingly, he did so at first. But really, there was nothing he could do to stop them. They were going to continue their relationship whether he liked it or not.

Eventually, he decided he would be okay with their happiness.

* * *

><p>By the end of February, Tony and I began our moving process. It was tiring; but I was the one that was incredibly tired during that time. It was a tiredness unlike any other, and it struck me at times. McGee and Abby were helping us out during the weekends. On weekdays, we did it by ourselves after work, which was hard because we often left work late. We were moving into my house, so thankfully, Tony's apartment was not huge enough to have to pack so many things. He was especially careful about the way his massive movie collection was handled.<p>

When we were completely settled into my house, we were, needless to say, exhausted. It took almost two weeks, but it was worth it. It was nice to have him around all the time now. Tony wanted to just give McGee and Abby a hundred dollars as a thank-you gift for helping us move, but I suggested that we take them out to eat. It was the least we could do.

Gibbs was absolutely clueless. Or so we thought.

Things were looking up a little bit. I continued to see the picture of Abby, McGee, Tony, and me in the camera. I tried to think of what it could mean, but nothing came to me. Sometime after, an older picture resurfaced. It was the picture of Tony in the Florida hotel room. I looked back and forth between the pictures. There was only one thing they both had in common: it was dark outside the windows in the picture.

And I still had not one damn clue what it could mean.

As if things could not possibly continue going downhill, they did. It was mid-early March, on a Friday morning when Tony got sick. Of all things, he had food poisoning. I knew it was not a random happening. He had texted me while I was out that Thursday night before, thanking me for the hamburgers that were left over in the fridge. I quickly called him back asking him what the hell he had just eaten. I had never made any hamburgers. The next day, he could not go to work because he was sick.

His shifting and moving about in bed was what woke me up. It was before the alarm on my phone began to ring, so it was still pretty early. I was able to catch sight of him going to the bathroom and got up and followed him. The door was closed, so I waited outside and asked him if he was okay. He said he really did not feel well.

Once he was done, he opened the door and stepped out. He did not look as bad as I thought he would. But still, I needed to know what was wrong with him.

"Are you okay?" I asked him again.

He shook his head. "I don't think I can go to work today," he said. We both knew that, in other words, that meant that he was _not _going to go to work that day. When I asked him why, he said he had stomach cramps and diarrhea. We came to the conclusion that it was food poisoning from those hamburgers (that I never made) he ate.

"Try not to mention it to McGee, please," he said. "He'll never let me live this one down if he knows I'm stuck at home because I have diarrhea."

"I will try not to tell him, but I have to tell Gibbs," I said.

"How are you going to tell him?" he asked. "I mean, it's not like you can say that you saw me go into the bathroom and found out for yourself what was wrong."

"I will tell him that you called me and told me to tell him that you couldn't go to work today because you are sick, and you think it's food poisoning."

"Okay, that works." He nodded.

I helped him go back to bed and after that, began to get ready myself. In my twenty-five-minute shower, Tony had gone to the bathroom at least three times. I felt bad for him because I knew he felt worse than he was letting me see. Before I left, I sat at the edge of the bed and asked him if he needed anything.

"Could you put on a movie for me?" he asked.

"Sure. Which one?"

"_Psycho_ would be nice."

It took longer than I would have liked to find the movie in his massive movie collection, but after I found it, I took it back to the room and put it on. After Tony moved in, we now had a TV in our room, which was something I did not have before. But it was fine, and I did not mind it. We both liked to sleep with everything turned off anyway. Before the movie began, I brought him a few water bottles and set them on the night table next to the bed and sat down next to him.

"Tony, I'll be back for lunch, okay? Call me if you need anything, and don't worry about Gibbs. I'll take care of it."

"Yes, Mom," he said jokingly.

I slapped him playfully in the arm.

"If you don't leave now, Ziva, you'll be late to work."

"It does not matter. I want to know that you will be okay by yourself."

"Do you know how many times I've been sick and home alone? I'll be fine, Ziva."

I was still hesitant. This did not seem like all the other times. This was different – perhaps in a way I could not so easily describe, but still different. I was having a battle in my head. Should I have gone to work anyway? Should I have stayed with him instead? I knew that if I called Gibbs and let him know Tony was sick and not come to work myself, he would get suspicious. If I did go to work, I would be worried all day about him. Somehow, I knew he would be fine, but I still liked to be precautious.

"Fine. I will have Ducky take a look at you after work." He rolled his eyes, but I ignored it. "And I should get going now. I'll be back for lunch." I leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Bye. Remember to call me if anything."

Indeed, I felt kind of like a mom. But I had to hide all that concern when I got to work. At least, in front of Gibbs, I did.

"Ziva," Gibbs said when I threw my things down at my desk and took a seat. McGee was there, too. "Do you know where DiNozzo is?"

"Actually, he called me earlier," I lied. "He told me to tell you that he was not going to be able to come to work today because he is sick."

"Tony? Sick?" McGee scoffed in disbelief. "What's he got?"

I shrugged. "Food poisoning or something like that. I think that is what he said."

Gibbs did not question me any further, but I could feel his eyes occasionally on me as we worked. His eyes were on me nearly all day, making me feel exposed. During lunch, I went home and stayed with Tony until I had to leave again. We watched another movie in that little bit of time because he wanted to. After work, I talked to Ducky and asked him if he could come over and take a look at Tony. I had to tell him that we moved in together, but he promised he would not tell Gibbs anything. I told him that the only other people who knew were McGee and Abby.

After a short examination, he came to the conclusion that Tony did have food poisoning, and it was called E. coli for short. The symptoms included abdominal cramps, which Tony admitted were sometimes pretty bad, and diarrhea, likely watery. He told him he needed to stay hydrated and gave him a list of things he could eat and things to avoid.

"You should be fine within five to ten days, Anthony."

Tony groaned and rolled his eyes. "Great. Just what I needed to hear. As if I want to spend more time than necessary with food poisoning."

Ducky glanced at me, but Tony did not catch the look.

"Hey, Ducky," he said. "You're not gonna tell Gibbs about…?"

"About…?"

"About the two of us moving in together, are you?"

"Why, of course not," he insisted. "Rest assured your secret is safe with me."

"Thank you, Ducky," I said.

"You're most welcome, Ziva."

When he was done and gone, I went up to Tony and wrapped my arms around him. He returned the gesture and rested his head against my stomach. I ran my hand through his hair, and I could feel him relax. I was glad that at least he did not have a fever, despite the cramping and diarrhea. Ducky had told us to expect little, if any, fever, but so far, he had none. I really hoped he stayed that way because food poisoning was already bad enough.

"Ziva?" Tony mumbled, sounding sleepy.

"Yes, Tony?"

"Let's go to bed," he said. "I'm tired."

"Alright," I said. We pulled away from each other, and I helped him up to his feet. He stopped immediately. "What?" I asked. "You need to go to the bathroom?"

"No. I just remembered – can we get another movie? I want to watch something."

"Okay," I answered, even though I was pretty sure it would be the millionth movie he'd have watched that day. I picked out a movie, and then we were off to our room. I put the movie in and helped him get into bed. I slipped in next to him. I would have snuggled against him like I had done many times before, but that time was the complete opposite. I could tell he was really tired because not long after the movie began, he was already asleep.

I lowered the volume of the movie, but let it go on. Pretty soon, I was asleep as well, but I could not sleep very well that night.

Saturday came, but it went by too slowly. We both stayed home all day. I was occasionally making Tony something light to eat and keeping him hydrated, all the while running around, getting things around the house done, and putting in more and more movies for him to watch. There were good movies, and there were bad movies. I was on the verge of hanging myself if I had to watch another movie. But I did not complain; I did want to spend time with him, and he wanted me there. Throughout the entire time that he was sick, I probably watched more movies than my brain could register.

Although he felt disgusting, he skipped a shower those days. I still did not complain.

And on Sunday, of all days, we caught a case. I had Tony call Gibbs to let him know that he was still sick and was not going to be able to go. The only good thing was that since it was a weekend, the dress code was relaxed. But, when Gibbs had called me – obviously, before Tony called him to let him know he was still sick – he had basically barked at me through the phone that I had fifteen minutes to get there. So I had to rush to get ready.

He had given me the address of the crime scene, and that was where I met up with everyone. It was still pretty cold outside, and I had forgotten to bring with me a coat. Gibbs had one. McGee had one. And I looked like an idiot in the cold weather.

"Glad you could join us, Ziva," Gibbs said sarcastically when I approached the body they were looking at.

"Sorry, Gibbs," I apologized. "I was not ready when you called."

"Neither was McGee," he said shortly. "And he was here before you."

McGee was looking at me sympathetically. He must have known that the reason I was not there earlier was because I was with Tony, who was still sick. Still, he said nothing, and we all went on with our work.

Gibbs ordered me to take pictures and McGee to bag and tag while he went to take witness statements. We got to work, but I noticed that he was standing behind us, not really looking like he was going anywhere. McGee looked over at him and asked, "Boss, is something wrong?"

"No," he said casually. "Nothing's wrong, McGee." He was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "By the way – nice shirt, Ziver," he said, referring to the Ohio State shirt I had on.

I froze.

"I think DiNozzo has one just like it."


	28. Suicide

Hi, everyone! Sorry for the late update, but thanks for the reviews on the last chapter! :)) The keywords in a lot of the reviews were: "Gibbs knows" and "they're so dead" lol. They were fun to read :) I'll get further into Gibbs's punishment in later chapters, but for now, enjoy this chapter. Or try to. It maybe kind of sad/depressing-ish.

…..

:: Chapter 28 – Suicide ::

"Let's go take a ride in my car."

Nothing in the English language sounded worse to me than those words spoken by Gibbs at that moment. McGee knew what was going on, and he was giving me an even more sympathetic look than before. Ducky and Palmer were also there, but Ducky was looking over at me, not saying anything. Palmer was confused like he always was. I tried to protest, but Gibbs was not listening to me. He told everyone we would be back soon, but I was not so sure _I_ would come back alive. Still, I had no other choice than to get in the car with him and follow his orders.

It was too quiet for my liking. Way too quiet. I was sitting in the passenger seat with my hands tucked in between my legs as Gibbs started the car and began to drive off. I really had no idea what to expect. Should I have expected him to drive us into a tree because he was probably angry? I didn't know. The suspense was enough to kill me if I was not somehow mysteriously already dead.

We were quiet until he pulled into the highway. The speed limit was sixty, and he was doing eighty. I was sure he would kill me and somehow save himself. It was Gibbs after all; he could make it happen without any self injuries.

"I wasn't kidding when I said it was a nice shirt," he finally spoke. "I really do think it's nice. I like Ohio."

I said nothing. If this was his way of keeping me on edge and messing with my head, it was working.

"Mostly because of Six Flags. You ever been to Six Flags, Ziva? It's a theme park. Kind of like Disney."

"No," I said in a small voice.

"Shame," he said. "Maybe Tony can take you sometime."

I felt my stomach churn. I began to speak, although I had no idea what I wanted to say. "Gibbs…"

"Do you think I'm stupid, Ziva?" he interrupted, and when he did, he started to increase his speed. I really thought, even if for a mere second, that his intention was to kill me. Maybe I was internally overreacting, but at that point, I could safely say that I was not safe. He went on. "Do you think I don't notice what's going on between you and DiNozzo? McGee and Abby don't need to cover for you; I _know_ what's going on."

I said nothing.

"I've noticed the exaggerated banter between the two of you. You smell like him sometimes, and some days, you both smell like the same kind of soap."

He even knew that Tony and I sometimes showered together in the mornings before coming to work. My reputation had been shot to hell in a matter of seconds.

"You do realize, Ziva, that we have security cameras in the building," he continued. "You think I haven't seen what you and DiNozzo do in the bullpen when I'm not there?"

"We don't do anything!" I suddenly protested.

"I'm talking about _kissing,_ David!" he retorted, not-so-accidentally pressing the accelerator and going a little faster than he already was. "If you think for one second that I've been absolutely clueless this entire time, you are _very_ mistaken. You and DiNozzo have been together for a while, breaking my rule number twelve, and neither one of you thought I would find out. You thought you could keep it a secret from me."

I wanted to say that Abby and McGee had been going out longer than Tony and I had, but it would not have been fair to drag them into this when they were nice enough to not mention us to Gibbs – even if he already knew about us.

"How long?" he asked, but when I did not answer right away, he asked again in a harsher voice. "_How long, David!"_

"A little over a month," I said.

He was quiet for a few moments. It was hard to tell what was going through his mind at that moment. When he finally said something again, I was expecting him to say that we were getting transferred to different teams or something like that. Instead he said, "I don't know what to do with all of you. I set some rules, and you all break them behind my back." There was a moment of silence. "The funny thing is you all thought you could get away with it."

I just wanted this talk to end. It was not fun anymore.

"Is DiNozzo even sick with food poisoning, or are you covering for him so he could have a few days off?"

"He really is sick. You could ask Ducky."

I immediately regretted saying that.

"Ducky knows?"

_Damn it._ "He's only known for a few days. That's all."

"Oh, really?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow although he kept his eyes on the road. "What else? Did you two move in together, too?"

"Yes." I had nothing else to lose – except for my life, but I dragged myself down that path when I forgot to change into another shirt for work. I hated myself for being so stupid.

"You realize you and DiNozzo are in big trouble, right, David?"

"But, Gibbs, you're fine with Abby and McGee!" I protested.

"Well, you're not Abby, and DiNozzo's not McGee," he snapped back at me. "They already went through their punishment. You break the rules; you pay the price. When DiNozzo gets back to work, you'll both have hell to pay." I tried not to roll my eyes and groan. "You can start today. You'll be doing DiNozzo's paperwork, along with your own, until he gets back to work."

As if I needed that.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day sucked, to put it quite simply.<p>

I would not have guessed that Sunday was going to be so demanding, but it was, and there was really nothing I could do about it. Gibbs was watching me like a falcon. Because he was sitting at his desk (supposedly working), it gave him the advantage of being able to stare at me as if I did not mind. I did not even have to look his way to confirm that he was glaring at me. I just knew. That, of course, only made McGee curious to know what happened between us, and it only made him stare at me, too.

I buried my face in a file and went to work. I needed to get started on the paperwork anyway, since I was probably going to be stuck there all day.

The only time Gibbs left the bullpen was to either go see Ducky or to go out for coffee. If I did not know any better, I would have said that whenever he had to go to the bathroom, he just did it in a cup. But, coming to think of it – very briefly, as I did not (always) dwell on these kinds of things – I hardly ever saw Gibbs go to the bathroom. It was making it nearly impossible for me to take my phone out and text Tony to tell him that I was going to be home late.

I tried, at one point, to take out my phone and text him in a discreet manner, but Gibbs knew. He just did. He only said, without looking up from his desk, "Put it away, David, and get back to work."

By the time it was eight, I had an almost-killer headache. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Between Gibbs and McGee constantly looking over at me and Abby coming up to the bullpen a few times, speaking in a voice that nearly sliced through my eardrums and seemed ten times more annoying than ever before, I wanted to strangle myself. But, I noticed, among the stares that I had been getting all day, Abby and McGee were the ones who were looking at me with a look of sympathy.

I was tired of it.

Gibbs had left at around ten, and when he was gone, I was able to call Tony and let him know that I was going to be home late. I did not mention to him anything about Gibbs knowing about us. I simply told him that the case we were working on was pretty tough and that I was going to need to stay a little longer. I asked him if he was okay or if he needed anything, and he said that, yes, he was. He had been watching movies all day, and when he got bored of that, he went to watch old TV shows.

I returned to my desk only to find that Abby was sitting on McGee's lap, one arm around his neck. They were both talking quietly, but they kind of stopped when they saw me come in again.

"Hey, Ziva," McGee called. I looked up at him. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine, McGee," I said. But everyone knew that not everything was as fine as I wished it was.

"Gibbs found out, huh?" Abby said, giving me that same sympathetic look as before.

"Yes." Well, he did not find out exactly. He already knew, but my stupidity and apparent forgetfulness confirmed what he already knew to be true.

"That sucks," she said. "I wish I could tell you that it'll be okay, but Gibbs is going to do anything and everything he can to make you pay for breaking rule twelve."

"Thank you, Abby," I said sarcastically.

"How's Tony?" McGee asked. "Is he still sick?"

"Yes."

"Food poisoning, right?" Abby said.

"Yes."

"Yeah, Ducky told us."

McGee grinned. "Tony has diarrhea. Ducky said so."

At least Tony was not going to be able to hold that one against me. I knew that he did not want McGee to find out about that, but he did, and thankfully, it was not through me. I could only imagine that none of us were going to hear the end of McGee's teasing. Ever.

Abby giggled a little but quickly hid it. "It's not funny, Tim," she said, still suppressing her giggles.

"No, it's hilarious," he said. "Besides, DiNozzo's always making fun of me, so I can use this against him now."

I knew I had to warn Tony that McGee was going to tease him endlessly now, but I would tell him when he got better. If I did tell him that night, it would eventually lead to the story of Gibbs finding out about us. Since he was still sick, I did not want to stress him out even more. I figured I could wait a few more days anyway.

I left at around midnight, and by that time, McGee and Abby were already gone. There were only about two other people in the bullpen, and it was extremely quiet. The silence was weird and uncomfortable, yet strangely soothing. By the time I got home, I was dead tired. I did not even bother to take my clothes off. I helped Tony with whatever he needed, and after that, I was asleep instantly.

I only had a few hours of sleep before I had to wake up and get ready for work again. And I, of course, did not sleep well for what felt like the millionth time in a month, and when I woke up, I felt like I had not slept in a week. Before I left the house, I took care of everything that needed to be taken care of and then left. I had no idea how much worse my day was going to get, and I had a certain yellow piece of shit to blame for it.

I noticed that Gibbs was in a bad mood that morning. One might have thought that he was always in a bad mood, but that was not necessarily true. He was naturally like that. But that morning, he was not his usual self. He was annoyed. We did not catch a case that day, which was good, but it was bad because I was buried under paperwork all day.

Whenever Gibbs was out getting coffee, Abby would come up and sit down at Tony's desk and stay there. She was bored in her lab with nothing to do. At one point during the day, she got to stay for at least an hour – maybe just a little bit more than that – because Gibbs was out for much longer than usual. It was as unpredictable as he was and weird.

I tried to ignore McGee and Abby to the best of my ability. One minute they were talking to each other about something random, and the next minute, they were suddenly very quiet. It made me look up a few times, wondering what was going on with them. They were again looking at me with that sympathetic look, as if they had something they wanted to say to me but weren't saying. It annoyed me, but I remained quiet and continued to work on the files that needed to be done.

Sometime in the afternoon, a few hours after noon, I went away to the bathroom. Gibbs was not around, so thankfully, I did not have to hear him tell me to sit my ass back down and continue working. I locked myself inside the biggest stall in the bathroom, which was something I rarely ever did. I sat down on the floor, crossing my legs. I had the camera with me, which I had stuffed into my pocket without Abby and McGee noticing. When I took it out, I could not decide if I wanted to turn it on or not.

I finally decided to do so. There was nothing new. Just the picture of Tony and the other one of the four of us. I barely noticed that I had begun to stare blankly at it as I held the camera in my hands until the opening of the bathroom door jostled me out of my thoughts. I thought nothing of it, even though I knew I heard more than one shuffling of feet outside the stall – but all that changed when I heard McGee and Abby call for me.

I quickly scrambled to turn the camera off and stuffed it back into my pocket.

"Ziva?" Abby's voice came out.

"What, Abby?" I answered, sounding clearly annoyed – not that she cared about that.

"What are you doing in here?"

It sounded like a stupid question at first. Why else would I have been in the bathroom? But I remembered that I was not in the bathroom because I needed to take care of my business; I was in the bathroom because I wanted to be alone to think of everything that had been happening these last few days. Still, I had to pretend it was a stupid question.

"What do you think?"

"Well, you're not peeing," she said. "That's for sure."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I just know. Call it a girl thing if you want, but I know these things."

"Are you okay, Ziva?" McGee then asked.

"I am fine, you two," I told them, although I knew neither one was buying it. "I just want to be alone right now." I hoped they would get the hint, never mind the fact that I was very clear about that.

They didn't.

"Oh, no," Abby said. "You sound like you could use a hug right now."

I did not even want to be touched. So, no, I did not want a stupid hug.

One of them pushed on the door of the stall, only to find that it was locked. McGee politely asked me if I could open the door. I said no. After that, I heard the toilet lid on the stall next to where I was being slammed closed. There were heavy footsteps. The next thing I knew, Abby was trying to climb over the wall that separated the two stalls, and McGee was trying to wiggle his way underneath the bathroom door to get in.

I wished they knew how absolutely ridiculous they looked at that moment.

McGee had better luck than Abby did. She found herself kind of stuck; one leg was dangling on my side of the stall, and the other leg was still on the other side.

"Abby, what the hell are you doing?" McGee was asking her from the floor.

"Okay, I need a little help here, guys," she said. "This is really hurting my va-jay-jay."

I could not help but voice my curiosity. "What is a va-jay-jay?" I asked.

"She means vagina," McGee offered helpfully.

"I do not want to know about your vagina, Abby," I said.

"I know you don't," she said. "But being in this position kind of hurts. I need you guys to help me get down from here."

I gave up. They were not going to leave me alone. I opened the stall door, even though McGee was almost completely in. He was about to complain about that, but then he just got up and helped me with helping Abby get back down. When we were finally able to get her off the wall and back on her feet (literally), she gave me a hug. "Just so you know, I can't really control my vagina's feelings. I mean, it just does what vaginas do, you know?"

"Stop talking about your vagina," I snapped.

She started to say something else, but in that instant, I suddenly felt McGee's hand go into my pocket – the one with the camera. _What the hell…?_ I almost pushed Abby off me and turned to glare at him.

"Do you value your hand, McGee?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me, wide-eyed, but his hand was still inside my pocket. "Uhh, yeah," he said. "I was just curious."

"I do not care."

"We know you're hiding something from us," he said. "We can tell."

"Yeah, Ziva, we just want to help," Abby put in. "We're worried about you. Team Gibbs does not keep secrets from each other." We glared at her. "Well… not all the time. And if it's bothering you, then we have the right to know what it is."

I turned back to McGee. "You have three seconds to remove your hand from my pocket before I rip it out of your arm." He did not budge at first, but when I counted down to one, he did, taking the camera along with him. I quickly grabbed it right back out of his hands. I wanted to kill him for that.

"That's what you're hiding from us?" Abby said. "The camera?"

I did not respond.

"Did you ever get that thing fixed, by the way?" she went on.

"You mean it came broken?" McGee asked. "Your Aunt Nettie sent you a broken camera from Tel Aviv?"

I really wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole. I knew was in deep shit right then, and I wanted nothing more than to just disappear into thin air.

"What are you talking about, Tim?"

"That camera," he said. "Ziva's aunt got it for her. It arrived in the mail after you guys came back from Florida."

"No," she argued. "She had that camera with her when we went to Florida. Tony was there. You could ask him."

"Abby, that camera arrived in the mail for her after you guys came back from Florida. When she opened it, DiNozzo and I were right there."

Abby did not say anything in response, and he said nothing else. Instead, they both turned to look at me. I would have really appreciated if the ground had opened up in that instant and seriously swallowed me up. I was now almost caught red-handed, and I knew that nothing I said was going to help me get out of this one. I could not hide anything anymore. I had to tell them – not because I wanted to, but because I had no other choice.

"Okay, what is going on here?" Abby said. "Ziva, I know you know that you had that thing with you when we went to Florida. And Tim's saying that it arrived in the mail after we came back from Florida? What are you not telling us?"

They were both staring at me intently, as though their lives depended on what I was about to say next. Running would get me nowhere. They would catch me. I could not come up with a lie off the top of my head, unfortunately. I had to tell them.

So I did.

I began telling them about how I found the camera in my house one night after I had come home from wrapping up a case. I went on from there, mentioning the weird pictures that I got, but ultimately leaving out the ones of Abby in the hospital and Gibbs's father and just telling them about the other ones like our case victims, of me, of Tony and me, and anything that wouldn't completely scare the crap out of them. I did tell them about how I tried to get rid of the damn thing twice, but it came back every time. I was afraid that they were going to stare at me as if I was crazy and not believe me. When I was done telling them, they were quiet for what felt like hours but was actually just a few seconds.

"Wow…" Abby began. "In a weird, twisted kind of way… that's actually kind of cool."

"No, it's not," I said.

"Are there any more pictures right now?" McGee asked.

I nodded and hesitantly turned it on. I showed them the picture of Tony and then the one of the four of us. They were quiet as I showed it to them. I pointed out that the only thing both pictures had in common was that it was dark outside the window.

McGee said, "Well, if Tony's sick… maybe that means we'll all get sick, too?"

"Get sick in a car?" Abby said. "That sounds kind of odd, McGee."

He shrugged. "Well, I don't know. I was just throwing a suggestion out there."

"Maybe we could ask Gibbs and see what he thinks."

"_No,_" I cut in sharply. They both gave me this look as if I had just killed ten people. "I do not want anyone to know about this," I explained myself. "I want to deal with this myself." In reality, there was only so much I could take. I knew Tony had my back, but I felt responsible for more than half of the things that happened, so it was only logical to want to deal with and sort things out myself.

"Well, Ziva," Abby said, sympathy in her voice, "it's okay to ask for help when you need it. We're your friends. We're here for you."

I sounded so pathetic then. "Please do not tell Gibbs or anyone else about this."

They nodded, agreeing that they would keep this a secret. I knew we had to be leaving soon, just in case Gibbs decided to burst into the bathroom and surprise us all with his constant irritation and sarcastic comments, but something else caught my eye. The camera was still on, but instead of it being on the last picture I had shown Abby and McGee, there was something new.

This time, it was not a picture. It was a video.

I wanted to stop looking, but I could not tear my eyes away from it. Not only was there something vaguely familiar about the screenshot I was looking at, but curiosity was also eating away at me. I had to know what that video was. I finally had an excuse to know what the mysterious video was about when Abby and McGee noticed me starting at it and urged me to start it. I did, but I was in no way prepared for what I was about to see next.

The video started outside a building that was perhaps three stories high. It was chaotic all around, with people shouting in just about every corner. It seemed a little familiar to me at first, but when I was able to process that the chaos all around was happening in Hebrew, I feared the worst.

McGee and Abby were intrigued, staring at the screen intently, although I knew that they did not understand anything that was being said. There was no translation needed, ultimately, because I knew what was going to happen.

In the video, the scene suddenly changed to what was going on inside the building. It was, if possible, even more chaotic inside. A young girl was seemingly running around frantically, trying to get everyone in the room to safety. She was thin, with dark brown, curly, shoulder-length hair. She cared for everyone there and was compassionate, something that was obvious in her body language, albeit frantic and shaky and desperate, and etched into her features for everyone to see. She wanted to so desperately get everyone out of the building, knowing that there was a promised chance she was going to die there. The minute a bomb went off, it killed her and everyone she was trying to save instantly. Either way, everyone would have been killed. They were burned to death, and the building collapsed, burying everyone underneath the debris.

And throughout the whole thing, Abby and McGee had not understood a damn thing. They did not need to. It was obvious what had happened, and with my reaction, they could tell this was not just a video of a random person. It was much more than that.

"Okay…" Abby said slowly. "What the hell did we just watch?"

I was frozen in my spot. I could not move even if I wanted to. My throat felt about as dry as the Sahara. I had no idea how I was still able to hold the camera in my hands without suddenly becoming a butterfingers. I was staring at the screen although the video had ended. But in my head, the scene was replaying over and over again.

Finally, the other two caught on when I did not move an inch.

"Ziva?" Abby said worriedly. "Did you know someone in this video?"

I did not answer. She said something to McGee who took the camera away from my hands. I did nothing to stop him, but at least he did not run off with it. I didn't think I could stop him if he had. Abby's concern was visibly growing. She asked me a few more questions, but decided to stop until I was able to gain my composure and shake everything off for the time being.

I had buried all those memories in the furthest part of my mind to the best of my ability when my little sister Tali was killed in that Hamas suicide bombing. Everything just happened to suddenly and ruthlessly resurface, and it felt like a huge slap to the face or a punch to the stomach.

I had not been present when my sister was killed, yet I had just witnessed her death an unexpected ten years later.

* * *

><p>1. Gibbs was watching me like a falcon. - obviously, she meant "watching me like a <em>hawk<em>." But, it's first person, and, well... yeah. :P

2. For the sake of this fic, Tali will be four years younger than Ziva, making her birth year 1986. So if she died when she was 16, it was in 2002, and since Ziva's birthday is in November, it probably would have made her 19 years old going on 20, assuming that Tali died in about March/April (okay, I just made that up. I could be wrong, but work with me here). Everyone still following me? Okay, good. That means that between Tali's death and Ziva going to NCIS for the first time (in 2005), there were three years. And since this story is currently set in 2012, ten years ago was 2002. Still with me, guys? Okay, good. I'm done now. :)


	29. Speak of the Devil

Hey, everyone – so sorry for the super long wait! This chapter kind of gave me hell, and I sorta kinda hate it. =/ Anyway, to make up for the long wait, here is a long chapter. I don't know what's wrong with me and writing lately, but updates may take longer than usual. Just so you guys are aware. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter! The Tali thing: not random. Enjoy.

…..

:: Chapter 29 – Speak of the Devil ::

Sometimes I wondered if I was the only person in the universe who wondered why it always rained in movies or TV shows when a person died. According to my co-workers, it rained when Special Agent Kate Todd died. When my mother died, it rained a little, too. It rained when Mike Franks died. It did not, however, rain when my sister Tali died.

It was around fifty degrees when I went home that night, and it was raining. It was quiet inside my car. At first, all I could hear was the sound of Abby's and McGee's concern towards me repeating itself in my head. It was nice that they were worried about me, but I did not want them to pity me or get all worked up over me. As I drove home, it remained silent; I only listened to the sound of the rain lightly beat against the windows. I thought about turning the radio on, but that would not have helped me at all.

When I got home, Tony was in our room, in bed, watching something I cared not for on TV. The lights were off, save for the light that came from the TV screen. It was almost midnight, and he was wide awake – or at least he seemed to be wide awake. I would have thought that with being sick and being at home all day, he would have been sleeping the day away, but no. He was very much awake when I got there. And because I did not want to worry him or dump a truckload of crap on him, I pretended like everything was fine.

"Hey," he said when I came into the room, "how was work?"

"Long," I said. "Tiring. Kind of boring."

"You miss me?" he teased lightly.

"Everyone misses you," I told him. I was sure it was true, although I was also sure that Abby was the one that missed him the most. McGee probably wished he was there so that he could tease him about having diarrhea, and Gibbs's hand was probably itching to give him a head-slap, even if for no reason. But underneath all that, I was sure they all truly missed him. "Anyway, how do you feel?" I dumped my things on the floor, took my shoes off, and sat at the edge of the bed.

"I feel a little bit better than the last few days, but still not the best."

I slipped under the covers next to him. "Have you done anything besides watch movies all day, Tony?" I asked.

"Does sleeping count?"

I rolled my eyes. "Are you tired?"

"Yeah, I am." He reached for the remote control that was somewhere underneath what felt like a sea of blankets and turned the TV off. He turned to me and, wrapping arm around my stomach, snuggled against me. His head rested against my chest, and I put my arm around him. It was a little quiet at first, until he asked me how my day was. I told him it was okay and that everything was okay. For some reason, I did not expect him to buy it, but before I even knew it, he was asleep.

I had been absent-mindedly stroking his head and running my fingers through his hair until he fell asleep, which I believed helped him drift off to sleep once again. I continued to do it after he fell asleep, but I was unable to fall asleep myself. Now that it was extremely quiet, with his rhythmic breathing being the only sound that was going on in possibly the entire house, I had time to think.

Of all things and videos in the entire universe to show me, it had to be one of Tali's death. I had not been there when she was killed, but I had the misfortune of seeing the place where she had died. I did not, however, get to see her after she died, because by then, she had already been burned to ashes.

These were things that I had tried to store in the back of my mind for years – and it had worked, too. But now, almost all the memories were coming back, and I had no idea how much I could take before it all came crashing down again. I knew I had to be alone, _actually_ alone; so when I was sure that Tony was in a very deep sleep, I slowly and carefully maneuvered him off me and back onto the bed. I remained there a little bit longer and watched for any movement he might have made. Nothing; he continued to sleep like a baby. I left the room, shutting the door behind me quietly.

It was still raining, but I went outside anyway. It was cold, and with the rain, it felt even colder, but I paid no mind to it. I stood out on the porch, leaning against the rail, but being careful not to get too wet. Part of me did not care if I got wet or not; the only thing on my mind was the video of Tali's death, which kept replaying over and over again.

For some crazy reason, I was almost tempted to get the camera and watch the video again. _Almost._ The other, still sane, half of me said that it was not a good idea. It probably wasn't.

I must have been standing outside the porch for an hour or so, just thinking. I had a feeling that for the next few days, all I was going to be thinking about was Tali. I had no idea how I was going to concentrate at work. What if McGee and Abby suddenly decided to become nosy and start asking about my sister? I did not really think I was prepared or even comfortable to talk about my sister when this just came so abruptly.

I was lost in my thoughts again. It was one of those moments when I was so completely tuned out of reality that I was not aware of anything going on around me. I was startled when I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and a face nuzzle into my neck. I might have jumped a little, too.

"Jesus, Ziva, it's freezing out here," Tony said. "What are you doing outside anyway?"

I dodged the question. "Weren't you sleeping?" I asked him.

"I was," he said. "And now I'm awake. But seriously, I woke up to go to the bathroom, and I saw that you weren't there."

"I just decided to go outside and enjoy the rain," I said. Neither one of us believed that.

"If you were going to enjoy the rain, you'd be out _in_ the rain."

"Not necessarily."

"Okay, true," he said and dropped it. He buried his face into my neck and kissed me there, sending a bout of shivers through me. He remained motionless for a few moments before he pulled his face away and said, "Listen, Ziva, I wanted to ask you to help me with something. I haven't showered in days, and I feel really disgusting. But I feel so _bleh_ and kind of weak and… can you help me take a shower? 'Cause I seriously don't think I can do it myself."

"Sure, Tony," I said. I turned around and led us both back inside the house. In the back of my mind, I was wondering if he really had not noticed that something was bothering me. In that aspect, he was much like Gibbs. He could always read through me – better than Gibbs, actually – and he knew whenever something was on my mind. I guessed, however, that I could not exactly blame him if he had not noticed. He was sick, and he felt like crap, and it was not like his senses were completely heightened, anyway. But, even so, I could not help but wonder these things…

When we got to the bathroom, I turned the shower on. Tony closed the door behind us and began to remove his clothes, tossing everything on the floor. We worked in silence; when he was ready to get in, I had to help in get inside the bathtub. It had not occurred to me until then just how weak he truly was. I knew that he had not done much all day for these past few days that he had been sick for – excepting eating a little, watching countless movies, and getting up to go to the bathroom – but I had not known that he was as weak as I was witnessing right now. He took my hand in what seemed like a death grip for support and got in.

I helped him with whatever he needed help with, which really wasn't much. I stood there awkwardly, nearly completely lost in my thoughts, just waiting for him to ask me to help him with something. In the midst of my thoughts, I felt water sprinkle onto my face. Tony had splashed some water on me to catch my attention, though thankfully, not a lot.

"Sorry," he said apologetically, "you were spaced out."

"Oh," I said as if I hadn't known that. I wiped some of the water drops off my face. "Sorry."

"You know," he went on, "I didn't just ask you to come inside the house because I needed you to help me with something."

"Well, it _is_ cold, and it _is_ raining."

"Okay, yeah, that's part of it," he said. "But you don't really expect me to believe that work today was only just boring and dull, do you?"

It would have helped, actually, if he did.

He went on when I said nothing. "Something's bothering you, Zee," he said. "I know it. Did something happen at work today?"

I relented, much to my internal disappointment. "A lot."

"So tell me," he said. "I'm listening."

"I'll tell you," I told him, "when you're done showering."

He was done soon, as I pretty much imagined he would be. I helped him step out of the shower, and as he took the towel that was hung up on the towel rack and wrapped it around himself, I turned the shower off. We walked out of the bathroom, but instead of following him, I went into the living room and sat down on the couch. Tony changed into a new pair of nightwear and came out into the living room. In his hands, he had a small jacket, which he had brought for me. When I asked him what he was doing with that, he simply said that it was still pretty cold inside and that he thought I might have needed it. I slipped it on, grateful that I did. I also hadn't realized how much I needed the warmth until I put the jacket on.

Tony sat beside me on the couch. He took my hand in his and intertwined our fingers together. His hand was cool from his shower, but they were also comfortably warm. Before he even spoke, in my mind it was a mess. I was wondering what to say first. I had to tell him everything that had happened, but what should I have started with?

"I'm all ears, Zee," he said.

"Gibbs knows," I blurted.

"Gibbs knows?"

"Yes."

"What does he know?"

"About us."

"Oh," was all he said. He never pulled his hand away from mine, but I could tell that he already knew that that was not a good thing. "When did he find out? And how?" And so I told him, because I knew I had to. I told him we were also going to be in big trouble when he came back to work. I had no idea what Gibbs was going to do to the both of us, but it was probably not going to be good. I mentioned that I was buried under paperwork – my own that I still had to do and his while he was out sick.

"Oh," he said again.

"Is that all you can say?"

"Well…"

"_Tony,_" I groaned, a slight pleading tone in my voice.

"I mean, I don't know what to say, Ziva," he said. "I understand that it was an accident coming to work in my shirt, but…"

"But…?"

"But it's actually kind of funny," he chuckled.

"What is so funny about it? We are both in trouble for it. You are better off sick!"

"Uhh, no I'm not. I can't wait to get over this stupid food poisoning. I hate it."

"Are you mad?" I asked.

"Why would I be mad?"

"I practically told Gibbs we are dating!"

"Ziva, Gibbs is no idiot. He obviously already knew that before the 'incident.' He was just waiting for the moment that would practically give it away," Tony assured me. "It's not like you did it on purpose. Things happen. Eventually, Gibbs was going to know for sure that we're together. It's not your fault."

I simply nodded. There was a moment of silence between us where all we could hear was the rain outside.

"There's more," Tony said. "What else happened?"

"Nothing, Tony, I am… stressed out," I said.

"Why? The Gibbs thing isn't the only reason."

"You are sick; Gibbs is angry; we are screwed; I have a lot of paperwork to do… it is a little overwhelming." That was an understatement. I thought my head was going to explode if anything else went wrong.

Tony sighed a little and looked at me straight in the eyes. "I can't say much about the paperwork thing," he said, "but everything else will be fine. I'll get better. And I know Gibbs is angry with us, but you know what? Eventually, he'll get the hell over it. He has to. Whatever punishment he has for us, we take it together. _This, too, shall pass,_ ya know? This isn't forever." Easy for him to say, I thought, somewhere in the back of my mind. All he did was stay home and take a shit whenever his stomach felt like contradicting normality. I was the one dealing with Gibbs's stupid moods and the paperwork and Abby and McGee's nosiness.

I knew the last thing I still had not mentioned was the worst of them all, but I could not bring myself to say it. As the rain continued to come down in heavy torrents, its sounds filling the entire house, I felt myself become increasingly anxious. How was I going to mention what I had seen?

_Oh, and by the way, Tony, I saw a video in the camera of my sister being killed. It kind of sucks, and it's really getting me down. _

No.

I knew that Tony was reading me like he always did. He knew there was something that I was not telling him, and that did not surprise me. I sometimes thought he was better at reading me than I was to myself. "Ziva?" he suddenly asked, a twinge of concern in his voice.

I stood up from the couch abruptly, tearing away from his grip, and made my way into the kitchen. I was not looking for anything in particular, but I busied myself around, as though I had been looking for something. Tony was right behind me, following what seemed to be my every move.

"Ziva," he repeated, a little firmer this time.

"It is late, Tony," I said. "We should go to bed now. I have to be up early anyway."

"Sleep can wait," he said as he approached me. He caught my arm gently, stopping me from my very pointless search for anything that would distract me. He turned me around to face him, and I could see that he was serious as much as he was concerned. "There's something else that you're not telling me, and it's bothering you. And it's bothering me that it's bothering you. Tell me. I want to help you."

Part of me wanted to think that he wanted to know because he was naturally so nosy, but I knew that he wanted to help me. I knew I had to stop turning away from whenever he wanted to help me, but sometimes I just could not help it. This was not something that was easy for me, much less when it came to life incidents and memories that had been stored in the back of my mind for many years.

I stared into his deep green eyes, willing myself to stay put and keep my emotions at bay. After all, I told myself, Tali had been dead for ten stupid years. Why was this so hard to just speak about? I told him about my sister, albeit briefly, around the time we first met. Why could I just not say it now?

I began to speak when I knew there was no way out of this one. "Today, I… I went to the bathroom at work…" I could not help but notice how genuinely concerned he looked, almost as if I were to confess that something absolutely terrible had happened, far worse than what actually happened. "And Abby and McGee were… well, they would not leave me alone. They wanted to know what was bothering me, and they found out about the camera."

"Did they… did they tell anyone?"

"No," I said. "I told them not to tell Gibbs or anyone else."

"How did they find out?"

I told him about how McGee just so felt the need to reach for my pocket and pull out the camera. They both had to mention it to each other until they realized that something did not add up – Abby had seen me with the camera when we were in Florida, and McGee had seen it when it arrived in the mail to me at work, so, naturally, they wanted answers. And then came the talk about the video. He could see that I was now trying really hard to keep my voice steady as I mentioned that.

Admittedly, it was hard to have to talk about seeing a video of my sister's death, when it already was hard seeing it over and over again in my head. But, even so, it was not as terrible as I anticipated and thought it would be telling him about it. Then again, it was Tony, who was incredibly supportive and whom I had grown to be entirely comfortable with. Just when I thought it would be impossible to tell him, I once again found myself being able to tell him everything.

"I was not there when she was killed," I said after I had finished telling him everything. "She had been burnt to ashes from the explosion."

His eyes were sympathetic and concerned for me as I told him that the very last memory I held of my sister was about two days before she died. It sounded cliché, but I never truly got to say a proper good-bye. Although Tony could relate to the death of a family member, he could not specifically relate to that of a sibling, because he was an only child. Still, he was understanding, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace.

I wanted to cry so badly, but I could not – and it was not because I was scared to, but because the tears were not there. It was ironic, and it did not make sense, but there were just no tears. It was like a huge wave of emotion came over me – and that was it.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, Zee," Tony said as he held me tightly. My own arms were around his waist and my head resting on his broad chest. His heartbeat was a little faster than normal, but I guessed I may have scared him into thinking that something had happened to me. He ran his fingers through my hair, pushing it back, not necessarily playing with it in the way he knew that I liked. "You know, sometimes," he began to speak after a few seconds of silence, "it helps when you talk about it." I said nothing. "Do you want to talk about Tali?"

"No," I said.

"That's fine," he said. "I just don't want you to shut yourself down, Ziva."

Fair enough. We both knew I was likely to do that and that I had done it before. Still, I told him, "I am not going to shut myself down, Tony," which was something I would try to do, yet somehow knew I was not going to do. I could have easily shut everything and everyone out, but I decided not to do that. I merely thought it was not the best time to talk about Tali.

"I just want you to tell me when something's bothering you. If you need to talk, I'm right here, sweetcheeks. I love you." He kissed the top of my head.

"I love you, too." I looked up at him. "Can we go to bed now?"

He said nothing as he pulled away from me and led the two of us back to our room.

* * *

><p>Tony was the first one to fall asleep. He had his arms wrapped around me, and he was pressed up against my back. We had not really talked when we got into bed, save for a few things we said to each other, but he was asleep quickly. I was trying to get myself to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was Tali being killed.<p>

Tali was an idiot for saving everyone instead of saving herself – except that was not true. Years ago, that was what I thought – that she was stupid for not saving herself first. But that was who she was. She always cared for everyone; she was compassionate, and she put others before herself. It was one of the things that made her perfect.

When I finally fell asleep, I saw everything again in my dreams. I had no idea what time I went to sleep, but that did not last long. The dream did not start off right away with her death; instead, it began with when we were children and built its way up there. Before I even knew it, as if everything I had seen from our childhood had been merely a blur, I was seeing the same building, watching my idiot sister scrambling about, trying to get everyone to safety. I woke up with a start right when the bomb went off.

It took me a few seconds to register that Tony was the one who woke me up from my sleep, for which I was thankful that he did, even though I knew I was not going to sleep at all until I had to wake up again in a few hours. I was sitting up in bed, feeling extremely hot with the jacket I had on, and Tony was at my side, trying to calm me down. I looked at him, silently asking him to explain what had just happened.

"You were having a nightmare, Zee," he said. "I woke you up. I mean, I probably shouldn't have, but…"

"No," I interrupted, "thank you for waking me up."

He nodded a little. "Okay."

I took off my jacket and tossed it on the floor, but I still felt hot. I was tempted to take everything off, but I resisted that urge. Tony was still looking at me with concern. I looked over at him, and he asked me if I wanted something to drink. I shook my head and told him no. After he mentioned it, I felt a little thirsty, but nothing I could not handle. I slowly lay back down in bed, watching as Tony did the same. I moved closer to him until my face was practically buried into his chest and his arms were around me.

"Is it just me," I spoke, just to cut through the silence, "or is it hot in here?"

"I think it's just you," he answered quietly.

"I feel so hot right now. I want to take my shirt off." I had resisted enough, I thought. Now I just could not deal with the heat anymore – or more like I just did not want to.

"Then take it off."

I sat up in bed once again and pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it to the floor, along with my jacket. My bra went next and so did my pants. Oddly enough, I wanted to rid myself of the heat that I was feeling, but the heat and warmth I felt radiating from Tony's body when I snuggled back into him was comforting.

His arms went around me once again, and he began to trace his fingertips up and down my bare back, lightly tickling me, but sending occasional shivers down my spine all the same. I would have minded if I had been trying to fall asleep, but sleep hardly came to me, and if anything, it was actually quite comforting and relaxing. In that moment, I thought to myself that people really underestimated this man a lot. Anyone would have thought that at the sight of a topless girl in the same bed with him, he would have melted into a puddle of lust, but that was not the case at all. He respected me, especially when I was most vulnerable.

"Tali was the preferred child," I suddenly said. I did not give him time to answer as I pulled my face away from his embrace and looked at him. "She was the kind of daughter every parent wished to have, the complete opposite of me in many things."

He stopped what he was doing with hand and pulled away. I took his hand back and slipped my fingers through his. I wanted – _needed_ – the physical contact as I began to delve into many years ago full of memories. I felt more comfortable and secure if I could feel him.

"Tell me about her," he prodded gently.

"Tali was… affectionate," I said. "A little _too_ affectionate; she always loved to tell people that she loved them. She showed it in every way possible, not just by saying it. She told our mother and father every single day that she loved them, and of course, that often made them wonder why I never said it." I paused for a moment, and then continued. "Tali was not always into the whole fighting thing. I wanted to join Mossad, but she was not interested in it. Because of our father, we learned to fight and we learned to defend ourselves. Mossad helped me better my skills, and although Tali was good, she was not as skilled as I was."

"I bet that if I had ever met her, I'd have called her 'Half Ninja' or something."

"Maybe," I chuckled half-heartedly. "Everyone liked her. She was cute when we were younger – and a bit of a 'daddy's little girl.' She was funny, sweet, kind…. It was impossible to hate her, but she still got on my nerves all the time." And even though she was the peacemaker type, and I the hated one, she was the one who was killed in a suicide bombing, but I did not say that.

"Tali sometimes thought it was funny and amusing to take lizards that got inside our house and try to put them inside my shirt. The older she got, the girly-er she became, but when she was little, she loved to catch them," I said. "There was one time that I got so sick of her trying to do that to me that I tied her to the tree outside our house." I laughed lightly at the memory, and Tony laughed along with me, though his laugh sounded almost as forced as mine.

"Did you get in trouble for it?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered. "Of course, she was the poor victim, but she learned her lesson. She didn't try to throw lizards down my shirt much anymore after that."

I did not want to talk about Tali anymore, but I added one more thing before I stopped altogether. "Her favorite city was Jerusalem. For some reason, she always said that she wanted to be buried there when she died." And I always disregarded that when she said it. I would never have imagined that when I was nineteen years old, a few months shy of turning twenty, I would be visiting my sister's grave in Jerusalem, where her tomb stood, although there was no body.

Tony had no idea what to say to that. I could see that he was searching his mind to say something – anything – but could not come up with anything to say.

"But she never actually got to _be_ buried," I went on. "She was burnt to ashes. To honor her, we had a tombstone for her there anyway."

"Ziva, I'm… I'm so sorry about all… _this_. But if it helps to talk about it, then you know I'm here for you to listen to whatever you want to talk about."

"Thank you, Tony," I told him. "And thank you for listening."

Once again, he was the first one of us to fall asleep. I, still topless and only in my underwear, turned my back to him and tried to sleep. It never came. My mind was whirling with so many thoughts that that alone was enough to keep me from being able to sleep. I was not uncomfortable without a shirt on, even though I rarely ever slept almost naked. To me, it was still a little warm, and the blanket that covered me from my waist down had surprisingly little to do with it.

The alarm clock on my phone woke me up just when I was beginning to actually somewhat drift off into what was likely to be a restless sleep. I did nothing to shut it off; the loud noise woke Tony up, who shut it off. He thought I was still sleeping, so he shook me until I looked up at him.

"God, Ziva," he mumbled groggily. "Did you even sleep at all?"

"No," I said. "I couldn't sleep."

"Are you still gonna go to work?"

"I have to."

"You don't _have_ to."

I did not have to go when there was an angry Gibbs who was likely to be on my ass the entire time? Yeah, I definitely _had to _– unless I had a death wish. "I am going anyway," I said. "I do not feel like putting up with Gibbs's crap today."

I went to take a shower, taking my sweet time in doing so; but the longer I took, the more I was able to think about things, and I was becoming increasingly anxious with every passing second. I had not given it much thought the night before, but I would have to face Abby and McGee, who already knew what was going on. I did not want to face them at all.

For about fifteen minutes after I finished my shower, I sat down on the edge of the bathtub, seriously considering staying home from work. It was not exactly an option, let alone a risk I was so carelessly willing to take, but I mostly feared that I would have a complete meltdown at work because of this. It was not so much the idea of a meltdown that terrified me, but rather the thought that people were going to be looking at me and staring and soon, demanding answers.

Tony eventually came to notice that a while after I finished showering, I did not exit the bathroom. We both knew that if I did not hurry up, I would be late for work, and that meant dealing with even more shit from Gibbs, on top of everything else, but at that moment, I did not care. I was seriously considering staying home.

"Ziva?" Tony knocked on the door. "What's taking you so long? You're gonna be late for work if you don't hurry."

"I'm almost done," I called, but all I did was sit there and stay there – naked and a little cold.

A few minutes later, and he came right in without knocking. He was a little surprised to see me not doing anything and walked over to stand before me. He took the towel off the rack and wrapped it around me and then helped me up to my feet. "What's wrong, Zee?" he asked me as he began to dry me off.

"I… do not want to go to work today," I said.

"Nobody wants to go to work ever," he chuckled.

"No, Tony," I said seriously, "I don't want to go today. I can't."

He stopped what he was doing and looked at me with concern. I did not wait for him to say anything before I started to speak again, "I mean, Abby and McGee – they know; what if they start to throw tons of questions at me, and I do not know how to answer them? Or what if everyone just suddenly starts asking me all these questions, and I just suddenly just snap and make a complete ass of myself? I mean, I just–"

"Ziva, stop," he said sternly, interrupting me. I stopped and stared at him, but he merely pulled me into a hug, despite the fact that I was still mostly wet and getting him wet, too. He held the stance for a few moments as he tried to get me to calm down before he pulled away and said, "Everything is going to be fine, sweets. You're stronger than you think, and you've been through things way worse than this. If Abby and McGee are making you uncomfortable, let them know that they are. Don't risk getting your ass kicked even more by Gibbs by not showing up today. It'll just be a day like any other. When you get back home, we can talk more of this."

"Yeah, but what if I have a… a meltdown?"

"A _meltdown?_" he repeated. "I've never known you to have a meltdown."

"But–"

He let the towel fall down to the floor and pool around my feet when he held my face in between his hands, interrupting me once again. "Zee, everything is going to be fine. You will be fine. Before you even know it, the work day will be over, and you'll be coming back home." I nodded at him. "You're strong, ninja girl. You can get through this." He brought his face closer to mine and gave me a soft kiss on the lips. I returned it, but it was short-lived.

"You're also naked and going to be late to work," he said a little humorously. "So we better get you ready before you get into any more trouble with Gibbs."

I picked up my towel from the floor, and Tony went to our room to get me some clothes from the closet. I was able to get ready faster than I normally did with him helping me get dressed. I left the house, feeling somewhat confident on my way to work that everything was going to be fine.

And then I saw the NCIS building and felt myself slowly losing it again. I could really have used a boost from Tony at that moment.

At work, things were not going as smoothly as I wished they could have gone. When I got there, Gibbs practically berated me for being late. McGee gave me a very weak and awkward greeting, but he looked at me as though he felt sorry for me. And Abby, who came up to the bullpen for no reason at all, covering it up by supposedly asking McGee some questions, was virtually itching for some physical contact – meaning a hug.

When Gibbs disappeared from the bullpen for the first time that day, McGee took out his phone and texted someone. That someone came running into the bullpen seconds later, her platform boots making a loud thumping sound every time they smacked against the floor, and attacked me with a giant hug.

"Oh, my God, Ziva, you must be feeling so sad and depressed right now – I just want to give you a giant hug!"

"You are!" I said, finding it a miracle to even be able to utter a word.

"Well, an even bigger one!"

"Abby, you'll only kill her," McGee told her. "Actually, I think you're killing her right now." He tugged at her shoulder, and she let go. I felt a huge sense of relief when I was able to breathe again.

She took my hand and dragged me all the way down to her lab. We took the stairs, which I was silently thankful for, because I did not think I could handle the silence in the elevator, let alone being in such a small space with them alone.

When we reached her lab and the door was closed behind all of us, the first thing that was said to me was, "You haven't slept, have you?"

I looked at McGee and shook my head.

"You must be exhausted then," Abby mused out loud.

We both glared at her before she corrected herself. "I mean, obviously, you're exhausted. I can see the bags under your eyes, and – sorry, I was thinking out loud. Forget I just said any of that."

McGee asked awkwardly, "Do you… do you wanna talk about it?"

"No," I said.

They both glanced at each other, and after a moment of silence, Abby came to a realization. "Of course she doesn't want to talk about it," she said, wrapping me up in yet another hug, but a less forceful one this time. "She wants to sleep. She hasn't slept at all."

Although the idea of sleep sounded very much like heaven at that point, I knew I could not sleep. Gibbs may have been out, but that did not give me the free will to go _sleep_ in Abby's lab just because I was tired. Still, Abby refused to let me do anything but sleep. If I did not want to talk about anything, we were not just going to sit around and stare at each other. I protested, but she took me into her office and handed me a blanket and Bert.

"Abby," I began with a sigh, "Gibbs is already angry at me enough as it is. If he finds out I'm sleeping here instead of doing work, he is going to kill me. Again," I added.

She only folded her arms across her chest and stared at me. I stared back, but I could not stare for very long. My eyes began to hurt, and I had to look away.

"Gibbs is not here," she finally responded. "He's probably getting coffee, so he'll be out for a bit. Why don't you take a twenty-minute nap? I'll wake you up."

"I do not believe you."

"Would I lie to you?" She turned to look at McGee, who had just walked into her office through the automatic doors. "Timmy, would I lie to Ziva?"

He shrugged. "I don't know; I guess not."

She ignored him. "Just go to sleep, Ziva. I'll wake you up in twenty minutes."

The most I got done was sit down on the floor before I noticed that I was being stared at – and it was making me uncomfortable. I looked back at both of them and said, as nicely as I possibly could in my incredibly tired state of mind, "Can you stop looking at me, please?"

Abby kicked McGee out and sat down at her desk. I opened up the blanket, barely noticing that Abby then moved to sit next to me on the floor. I stopped what I was doing again and looked at her. "What?" I asked.

"I just thought I'd tell you that… if you want to talk, I'm right here," she said sincerely.

"Thank you, Abby," I said. "But… not now."

She nodded. "I know. That's fine. Whenever you're ready. I just have one question."

I did not really want to know what her question was, but I waited for it anyway.

"How long has this been going on?"

"How long has _what_ been going on?" As if I had no clue what she was talking about.

She pursed her lips for a second, almost as though she felt guilty for asking, and then said, "The camera thing."

I answered almost sheepishly myself. "Since December."

Her eyes nearly popped out of her sockets. "_December?_" she repeated in disbelief. "Ziva… it's March! And you've been hiding this from everyone since _December? _Oh, my… you need another hug!" She embraced me again, but I actually enjoyed the hug this time – but even so, the idea of sleep was really starting to get to me. Twenty minutes, though not enough, was better than nothing. The more I thought about it, the more tired I became and longed to just close my eyes and drift off into the sleep that was deprived of me last night.

I had not noticed that I was falling asleep on Abby until she spoke, waking me up again.

"Twenty minutes," she said.

"Twenty minutes," I mumbled back tiredly.

Without another word, she helped me settle back down, and the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep was Bert, who was underneath my head, acting as a pillow, making a farting sound.

* * *

><p>When I woke up again, I knew it had not been twenty minutes. It had been much, much more than that. That was about all I could tell; I had woken up feeling so groggy and confused. I tried to rub the sleep from my eyes, but that did not work. I sat up on the floor, feeling my back protest a little from having slept on the floor. Abby soon walked in, grinning.<p>

"How long have I been asleep for?" I asked.

"Not twenty minutes, that's for sure," she said.

"Abby."

"Okay, fine. Four hours."

"_Four hours! _What the hell time is it now!"

"It's noon."

All I could think about was how angry I was and how Gibbs was definitely going to kill me for having slept for four hours when I should have been working. But I refused to go down alone. Abby was the one who insisted I sleep in the first place, even though I had agreed. But what could one do to escape her when she would not shut up sometimes? "You said twenty minutes!" I shouted hysterically. "Why didn't you wake me up after twenty minutes?"

"Well, for one, I didn't want to. Second, you looked really peaceful anyway. Third, you hadn't slept at all, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. You need to sleep, Ziva. We haven't even caught a case."

"Gibbs is going to–"

"Skin you alive?" she finished for me. "Yeah, probably. But I'll tell him what happened."

"Yeah, and?" I snapped.

"I'll tell him the truth. I'll tell him you were tired and that you didn't sleep at all last night."

Easy for her to say, because_ she_ would have easily gotten away with something like that. Someone like me, or Tony or McGee, for instance, would have gotten our ass kicked by our boss. It did not matter how many times Abby tried to insist that I was tired and needed to go to sleep; Gibbs was going to kill me for that anyway. And, lately, he had no patience with me whatsoever. I could understand why, but that did not mean I wanted him to call me out.

"Gibbs will understand, Ziva. He's an understanding man."

Speak of the devil.

He suddenly walked in through the automatic doors of Abby's office, causing me to jump a little. Any moment then, I was expecting him to chase me around the room with a knife (I really was still very tired…), but instead, he just stood there, glaring at me with those piercing blue eyes of his.

"Hi, Gibbs!" Abby said cheerily. "Ziva just woke up! She was just–"

"Abbs," he said to quiet her, though his gaze remained fixated on me.

"Sorry."

I was prepared to hear from him anything from the current time to how I was going to die a slow painful death. I did not doubt that Gibbs could make that happen. I was not, however, expecting him to tell me to go home. He did not even look angry. He just told me to go home, just like that.

"What?" I asked, wanting to make sure I heard right.

"Go home, Ziver," he repeated. "You're no good to me falling asleep when you're supposed to be working."

"But, Gibbs… what if you catch a case?"

"What of it?"

I blinked. "Wouldn't you need me to–"

"I have McGee," he told me. "Just go home, Ziver. Get some rest."

Abby was looking at me with a huge smile plastered on her face and a hint of smugness lurking close behind. Why was it that when I was sure he was going to kill me, he said something completely different? I did not understand, but I was too tired to care. I went home, surprising Tony, who was lying down on the couch, watching some TV.

"Hey," he said. "Lunch break already? I didn't know it was already noon."

"Gibbs told me to go home," I said. I explained to him everything that happened – from the moment I got there, to Abby dragging me to her lab, to me falling asleep and waking up four hours later, to Gibbs telling me to go home. Tony was surprised that he would say something like that, but then realized that when Gibbs was acting nice like that, even going as far as to call me _Ziver_ when he had been pissed off at me, it was because some serious shit was going to go down afterwards.

We both knew it. But I was going to try and sleep the day away, no matter how much my mind kept on wandering off to Tali and everything I had seen.

When I was done telling him about my short work day, I asked him to come to bed with me. Yes, it was noon, but I did not care. I took off my shoes and kicked them off to the side and crawled into bed with my clothes on. Tony followed me, and once we were both under the covers, he slipped an arm around my mid-section and pulled me close to him.

I closed my eyes, but the moment I did, I felt tears stinging underneath my eyelids. I wanted to wipe them away, but I did not. I simply let them fall, not bothering to open my eyes or anything. I held back a sob that threatened to wrack through my body, but moments later, I felt a thumb wipe away at my eyes. I opened them and turned to look at Tony.

He seemed to read my mind. "Sometimes you do this thing where you kind of clench your jaw when you cry," he said. "That's how I can tell."

I nodded. He slipped his arm around me again and shifted the both of us so that he was closer to me and my head was nestled onto his chest. He ran his fingers through the bits of my hair that he could squeeze into and continued like that until I fell asleep and knew no more.

* * *

><p>Fast forwarding to the next week, after Tony was finally all better from his food poisoning, and Gibbs made us watch this God-awful movie called <em>Troll 2<em>, in which I could swear that I lost more brain cells within the first five minutes of the movie than I had ever lost watching TV throughout my entire life, I wish I could say things got better.

But they did not.

The Carrie Springer case took a toll on us and almost became the death of us – practically quite literally. It all had to do with her runaway husband's brother, Brian Springer, who led us to think he was merely helping us the entire time, when in reality, he was plotting to kill us. He almost succeeded, too.

This is, by the way, where that picture of the four in the car, in the dark, comes into play.


	30. Heroine

Hi, everyone! SO sorry for the late update! Every chapter is becoming harder and harder to write, so I'm thinking it's almost time to start wrapping this story up. I'm not sure when that will be. Anyways, expect late updates, so you all know. Enjoy chapter 30! Woohoo! =)

…..

:: Chapter 30 – Heroine ::

Before McGee, Abby, Tony, and I were almost killed by the psychotic Brian Springer, there were some things that happened in between that week. By Wednesday, Tony was beginning to feel better, and on Thursday, he was able to come back to work, although he was still a little weak. Gibbs, being strangely considerate, saved a head-slap for him on Friday, but McGee was the first one to break out into a joke when we walked into the office that Thursday morning.

"Good morning, DiNozzo!" he said with mock cheer and an all-around sarcastic grin. "I've heard you've had a _shitty_ week!"

Tony shot him a glare, and, yes, it was horrible, but it was funny. I had to bite back a laugh.

"Zip it, McDork. I'm in no mood for your dumb jokes today."

McGee did anything _but_ zip it, actually. "Aww, it's okay, Tony. We've all missed you. It really _stinks_ when you're not around."

I turned on my computer, trying to shield my face behind the monitor to not be seen.

"McGee…"

"But in all seriousness, Tony," McGee continued. "Talking about work now…"

"Thank you."

"You've got a _crapload_ of paperwork to do," he chuckled.

I accidentally let out a laugh, immediately catching both of their attention. McGee was smiling, but Tony was looking at me like he couldn't believe I just laughed at him for that – even though I was not laughing _at _him. There was nothing funny about food poisoning. But McGee's jokes were pretty funny.

Later on, Abby attacked him with a giant hug that threatened to squeeze the life out of him. And then the next day, the first thing Gibbs did was head-slap him.

"Boss?"

"What, DiNozzo?"

"What was that for?"

"For being sick and being out of work."

"Oh," Tony said bleakly. "Okay. Thanks, boss."

That day, later on, Gibbs took us aside to talk to us. Aside meant the elevator, something I was not exactly comfortable with. It was not entirely because of Gibbs; it was mostly the fact that we were alone in the elevator _with_ Gibbs and the fact that he knew something about us that we wanted to keep a secret. That was kind of terrifying.

He mainly told us that if our relationship ever got in the way of our job, he would seriously have one of us moved to another team. I believed every word of it. There was a certain amount of grab-ass that he (possibly reluctantly) allowed at work between us, but if there were to ever be a time, for example, that McGee calls us because he's in trouble and we do not answer because we are too busy screwing each other, we would be in an unimaginable amount of trouble – more so if something were to happen to him.

I was glad that things went as smoothly and painless as I _had not_ been expecting. But even so, we were still forced to watch that stupid Troll movie that made me regret ever having a TV in the first place. It was kind of torturous, and I could not decide if Tony's whining throughout the entire thing was actually a good thing or just flat-out annoying.

Now – about Brian Springer.

We liked him at first; we _all _liked him, including Gibbs. For Gibbs to like someone immediately… one could imagine how nice this guy would have seemed at first, or the good first impression he made. Pushing aside the fact that he tried to kill us, what was not to like at first? He was a gentleman, but he was not one to flirt, which Tony and McGee secretly appreciated. And he had something in common with all of us.

It seemed too good to be true for him to be nice, helpful, cooperative, and have something in common with all of us. He loved movies, and if we didn't think Tony talked enough as it was about movies, or just in general, he talked a hell of a lot more whenever Brian was around. He said he was computer-savvy, which McGee was surprised to hear, had a knife collection, which I personally thought was fascinating, and had an apparent addiction to caffeine, mostly Caf-Pows.

Don't even get me started on how excited Abby was to know that there was a fellow Caf-Pow addict somewhere in DC.

If any of what he said was true, I don't actually know. It was not like we ever got the chance to ask him if he truly loved movies or knives or caffeine after he tried to kill us. And it's better that way, because I sure would have liked to stab him with _his own_ knives.

It was Wednesday, early in the afternoon, and we had finally – _finally!_ – wrapped up the Carrie Springer case and caught her stupid husband who was on the run from us. It was almost time for our lunch break, but Gibbs was nowhere in sight. We knew he had not gone out for a coffee run, but we had no idea where he was. Perhaps if he would have been there at that moment, we would not have been almost killed. I was not sure what exactly could have happened, but certainly not what happened.

But this was not Gibbs's fault. If anything, it could have been our fault – maybe just a little.

Brian caught up to us in the bullpen, his hands tucked into his pockets, looking shy and modest. Tony and I were getting ready to head out for lunch, but we were not quite ready. McGee was sitting at his desk, typing away. "Hey, guys," he said, and we turned to face him, acknowledging his unexpected presence. We said hello to him. "I just wanted to say thank you again for catching my brother. What he did was wrong – killing his wife and my sister-in-law like that. I'm just glad that justice has been served."

"No problem, man," Tony said to him. "What're we NCIS agents for?"

"Anyway," Brian shrugged his shoulders in a way that made him look like he was too embarrassed to say whatever he was going to say next, "I know you guys are all still on duty, but I just can't thank you all enough. My wife and I have been talking, and we were wondering if you wanted to come to lunch with us. Our treat. After that, we'll leave you alone and you can get back to work."

Tony looked over at me and then at McGee, who was looking back at us. They looked like they were seriously considering it. And why not? Brian was going to pay, anyway.

"Sure, we'd love to," Tony said.

"We can do like a 'triple date' thing," Brian continued. "Me and my wife, you and Ziva, and Tim and Abby."

"Sounds good," McGee said. "I'll go get Abby." He left the bullpen.

"And, Tony," Brian added, "I'll let you drive my car."

Tony's jaw almost became unhinged and hit the floor. "You serious?"

"As serious as a heart attack."

He turned to me, grinning like a child opening his gifts on Christmas Day. "Ziva, did you hear that? He's going to let me drive his 2011 Volvo S80!"

I did not care at all about cars. That was something I tuned out on whenever they talked about it. "That's great, Tony."

"Great? This is _amazing!_"

It was far from amazing. Although everyone continuously told me that none of this was my fault, a part of me wondered why I did not suspect anything at first. It was so obvious. Is it not weird that someone offers his car to someone else? We did not know Brian for a long time, either. I should have known that the fact that he offered his car to us was just plain weird. I should have known better than to let Tony fill his head with the idea of driving someone else's new car.

"Does it have a sunroof?"

"Yep." Brian handed Tony the keys. "I figured you'd want to take a ride in it. It's the least I could do, since you guys have all helped me with my brother. My wife and I will meet you at the restaurant." He gave us the directions to the restaurant, which was also odd – another thing I should have seen coming.

"Wait," I said. "So how are _you_ gonna get to the restaurant?"

"My wife's waiting in her car. We'll use that."

He was gone after that. McGee came back up shortly with Abby, and Tony felt the need to gloat about how he was going to be the one driving the new, awesome car that did not belong to him.

"No fair," McGee exclaimed. "Why do you get to drive it? I wanna drive it, too!"

"You can drive it when we come back from the restaurant."

McGee thought about it and then shrugged. "Fair enough," he said.

The four of us left the bullpen and stepped into the elevator. Nobody said a word. Tony's body language clearly showed that he was excited about driving a cool car, but he did not speak a word. When the elevator finally landed, we stepped outside and located the car when we exited the building.

"Look at this thing!" Tony squealed. "It's so cool! I could almost make love to it!"

"That's gross, Tony," Abby said.

Tony unlocked the car, and we all got in. I was in the passenger seat, and McGee and Abby were in the backseats. Abby was behind Tony, and McGee was behind me.

"It even _smells_ new!" Tony said.

"Smells good," Abby put in.

Tony shoved the keys into the ignition and turned around to face her. "Are you kidding me?" he said incredulously. "Smells good? It smells amazing!"

"Smells like every other new car smell, DiNozzo," McGee added with a roll of his eyes. "And we already know – you could almost make love to it. Could you hurry it up and get us out of here?"

Tony scowled at him, but finally pulled the car out of the parking lot. A few minutes later, Abby asked us if Gibbs knew where we were.

"Not exactly," McGee answered.

"Are you serious?" she said in disbelief. "We're going to lunch… and Gibbs doesn't know where we are?"

"Does Gibbs have to know where we are all the time?"

"Uhh, yeah, he does, Tim! He's Gibbs! He has to know everything! When Ziva and I went to Florida, we told him."

"That's different. You were going to another state and you were gone for a week."

"How is that different, Tim?"

"Because we're only going to lunch! The restaurant is like ten minutes away."

If they continued their banter, I don't remember it. I tuned out after a bit and continued to look out the windshield, occasionally glancing out the window on my right-hand side. Tony was too busy trying to process in his brain the fact that he was driving someone else's awesome car to notice that I had been quiet. It was not that I was feeling down exactly; I just did not want to speak.

The restaurant we were going to meet up at was in an unusually odd location – yet another thing I should have paid attention to, but did not. There was a long, practically abandoned street called Swinesverd that seemed to be practically a mile long (obviously, it was not; but it was a long road, so it felt that way). At the end of the street, according to Brian, we had to make a left and, two blocks ahead, was where the restaurant was. The street was inevitable, he had said.

Why did that not arouse any suspicion in all of us, or in me?

Before we pulled into the long road, I looked over my shoulder and saw that McGee and Abby were laughing loudly at something, and then I noticed that they were not wearing their seatbelts. They did not seem to notice that I was looking. Back up front, Tony was commenting about how much he loved the car.

"Have I mentioned how awesome this car is?"

"Only a few billion times already," McGee replied in a snarky tone.

Tony stepped on the pedal, going at a speed that should have been reserved for the highway.

"Are you trying to kill us, Tony?" Abby said. "Slow down!"

He didn't because he couldn't. When he tried to reduce the speed to pull into the seemingly-abandoned street, he found that he could not. Of everyone in the car, I had been paying the most attention to what he was doing. Abby and McGee were simply trying to get rid of the idea of Tony having us killed, but I was painfully aware of what was happening – more so when he confirmed it.

"Guys, we have a problem," Tony said seriously. The laughter in the back died down, but I already feared the worst. "The brakes aren't working."

Abby was the first one to speak, of course. "What the hell do you mean the brakes aren't working?"

Tony demonstrated by slamming his foot against the brakes a few times. The car continued running at its speed. For a moment, none of us said anything, let alone moved. But it only lasted a few seconds before Abby seemed to break out into what could have been mistaken for a panic attack, which quite frankly only made us even more anxious. If we were trying not to panic, it was made nearly impossible with her freaking out in the back.

It turned out the steering wheel would not budge either. Tony tried turning it, but it was locked in place and the car continued to go straight. My heart was in my throat, but I was trying to push all my fears aside and concentrate on what we could do to get the hell out of there.

"The doors!" I suggested, because everyone seemed to have forgotten that there was possibly an easy way out. "Try the doors!"

None of the doors unlocked, and none of the windows rolled down. We were trapped in the car, and it was not helping that Abby was hysterical.

"Shit," Tony muttered. "Okay, nobody panic." Too late for that. "There has to be something we can do to get out of here."

"We're going to die, aren't we?" Abby was near-tears. "The doors won't unlock, the windows are, like, jammed or whatever, and we're trapped! We're all going to die!"

McGee tried to calm her down, but that did not work.

"Here's another plan," Tony said. "There has to be something in this car that will help us break the windows or something. Anything! So let's look around to see if there's anything."

McGee and Abby looked in the backseats and under the seats for anything, but they found nothing. Tony did not find anything in his area either. I looked around, although my hands were shaking. I knew I had to be cool and not allow myself to have a heart attack like Abby, but my heart was caught in my throat, my throat and mouth felt dry, and my stomach was doing flip flops. If I had had any ounce of hope that we could get of that car alive and in one piece, I was seriously starting to doubt it the more I listened to Abby.

When I checked the glove compartment, my heart stopped. In bold, red letters was a timer, counting down the time we had to get the hell out of the car.

We had a just little more than five minutes to figure something out.

"Oh shit," I muttered out loud. Everyone turned to look in my direction.

"Oh, my God, is that a BOMB!" Abby screamed.

"We have to do something now," I said, turning to look at Tony, but no doubt my voice was shaky.

"The sunroof!" McGee suddenly said. "We can go out through the sunroof!"

Tony tried to open it, but the button for that was not working either. My anxiety was starting to grow. Nothing was coming to me, and we did not have much time to figure something out, make it work, and get out of there. It seemed like all of us were bouncing around anxiously in our seats, especially Abby. I stole another glance at the timer.

_Five minutes and eight seconds… seven… six… five…_

Tony's voice yanked me out of my thoughts. "Ziva!"

I looked at him dumbly, but did not say anything. He did not give me time to speak anyway.

"Do you have your gun with you?"

I looked down at my holster, which had my gun. How could I have forgotten that I had my gun? I was clearly not thinking straight at all. I pulled it out of its holster.

"You can shoot the window, right?" Abby half asked, half yelled, sounding a little hopeful, but still frantic as hell over it all.

I cast my glance upwards. "Abby, can you tell me what type of glass this is?"

McGee answered for her after he took a good but quick look at it. "It's tempered glass."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Tony asked, sounding almost as worried as Abby.

"It's a good thing, Tony," McGee said. "It will shatter easily."

I pointed my gun at it, but my heart was still pounding mercilessly against my chest. It was worth a shot and better than nothing. "You might want to shield your face for this," I warned them. I had to stop myself from counting up to three in my head and just jump right into it. After everyone shielded their face away, I shot the glass once and it shattered completely into small pieces. There was no doubt a mess of glass everywhere and before I knew it, my hands and arms were bleeding a little thanks to the shards of glass. Shakily, I put the gun back into my holster, and stole one last glance at the timer.

_Four minutes and forty-four seconds… forty-three… forty-two…_

"Abby should go first," I said.

"You want me to jump out of a moving vehicle!"

In the midst of everything, I briefly thought to myself that I did not understand her. She seemed willing to find another way out, but when it came to jumping out a vehicle that just so happened to still be moving, she was hesitant.

"Abby, it's either that or die!" McGee said impatiently.

More than anything, there was fear in her eyes. Aside from the hesitation, there was real fear. I could not stand to stare at her any longer, for fear that something inside me was going to snap and lose it. The plan was simple, and she was complicating it. She just had to squeeze through the sunroof that was virtually a hole now and roll off. When she landed, no doubt, she would have bruises and cuts and whatever else, but I knew she would survive it. I was not going to take no or any form of hesitation for an answer anymore; I held out my hand and she took it shakily, but one good look at it, and she had to clearly point out that there was blood running down it. I shook it off. There were more important things – like getting out of that car in one piece.

She began to make her way out the sunroof, with us helping to push her out completely. The shards of glass that had not completely fallen off had scraped some of her, mostly her legs, and that was because of the skirt she wore. By the time she was out completely, we could hear her tumble off the car and into the asphalt concrete road. McGee tried hard not to cringe, or maybe even throw up at the sound of… _that_.

McGee was up next, but he did not protest. I could not help but steal a glance at the timer once more.

_Three minutes and fifty-eight seconds… fifty-seven… fifty-six…_

Things were not exactly getting any better, and time seemed to be flying, although that was no surprise. McGee was taller and heavier than Abby, and although he fit just fine through the sunroof, it took just a tad bit longer than Abby. He rolled off the car, his body smacking harder than Abby's did, until he landed on the ground. I was not exactly paying attention to what everyone else was doing. The next thing I knew, there were still a little more than three minutes left and only Tony and I.

"Go," I told him.

"_You_ go first," he argued back.

"Tony, I am lighter and shorter than the rest of you, and I can support my own weight." That was not meant to be an insult – not that he took it as one anyway. But I had a feeling that I could get myself quicker out of the car than the others could for themselves. Then again, maybe not. "You go first."

He was hesitant at first, and that made me even more anxious and nervous. "No, Ziva, I'm not leaving until I know you're safe first."

"The hell you are," I snapped back. "The more you argue with me, the more time we are wasting! Tony, go!"

"Ziva, I'm not–"

"GO!"

He was still hesitant, but he finally decided to cave in. I held out my hand for him to take, but before he began to wiggle himself out through the sunroof, he said, "I love you, Ziva, but if we survive this, I'm going to kill you myself." The joking tone he had made things a little easier – until reality set back in that if he did not hurry the hell up, we were both going to die, and McGee and Abby were going to witness that.

"Damn it, Tony, just go," I said, but it sounded like a mixture between a pathetic whine and like I was about to cry. I helped him get out through the sunroof, trying to block out the sounds of his body smacking against the back of the car where he rolled off. And when I was left alone, looking at the timer and realizing that I only had two minutes left to save myself, it kind of dawned on me.

My heart felt like it was about to burst, and my adrenaline, I was sure, was through the roof. One would have thought that the adrenaline rush was going to help me get myself out of there, but I even felt like the adrenaline failed me. It kind of hit me suddenly that everyone else was safe, but that they deserved to be out there while I was still stuck inside the car because this was all my fault. For a moment, my vision swam in front of me, and I could hardly concentrate.

I lifted myself off the seat, feeling some shards of glass drop to the floor. I poked my head through the sunroof, and immediately, I felt myself become a little dizzy. I felt so many things at once, and I could not believe that dizziness was one of them. It wasn't severe; but it wasted even more time.

I thought I could hear my name being called in the distance, but I could not focus on anyone or anything. I was tempted to look back inside the car to see how much time I had left, but figured that it was probably not a good idea. I had already wasted enough time not doing anything. With all the strength I could muster, I pulled myself out and slid off, arms set before me to protect my face from getting smacked. I could feel some shards of glass cutting through my pants, but I ignored that.

Before I even knew it, I landed on the floor, on my stomach, unable to move for what felt like forever. I did not dare move a muscle.

It was quiet for a long moment before I felt the ground shake with the sound of an explosion in the distance to my left. I still did not move when everything became still again.

No limb in my body paid attention when I mentally ordered it to move.

_Get up, Ziva,_ I told myself. _Get up. You're fine. Get the hell up!_

But I could not move. The only reason I was suddenly off the ground so quickly was because I was yanked up to my feet by someone. My legs wanted to give out, but, somewhere in the back of my mind, I was telling myself to hold on. There would be a chance to pass out later. Or at least I hoped there would be.

When I was able to take a good luck at the person, I saw that it was Tony who had helped me up from the ground. He seemed to take in my appearance for a few seconds, but then asked me, "Are you okay?"

Physically, I was fine, save for a few cuts and bruises, although I knew that once the adrenaline and the day's events wore off, I was going to hurt like hell. Emotionally and mentally, not so much. As much as I wanted to snap at him for the dumb question, I only nodded my response.

"Good," he said. "What the hell took you so damn long! You had me worried fucking sick!"

It could have been the fact that I was alone and did not have help. But I was not about to say that, because, well, I _did_ insist for everyone to get out first. I could hardly say anything, despite the fact that my adrenaline had not completely worn off – at all.

Tony did not wait for me to answer; instead, he just dragged me over to where McGee and Abby were. Abby immediately attacked me with a hug, and I swore I was going to fall over. "That was the bravest thing ever!" she said. "And so scary, too! I'm so glad you're okay!" If anything, her grip on me tightened.

By that point, I was wondering why none of them had called Gibbs. Almost as if he could read my mind, McGee said that none of their phones had signal. We had such terrible luck sometimes.

Abby came to a sudden realization, and she pulled away from me. "Oh, my God!" she suddenly shrieked. "That picture we saw!" At first, I had no idea what she was talking about. I thought that maybe – _just maybe_ – this whole near-death experience was screwing with her head, but maybe it was really screwing with mine. I was not sure what she was talking about until she mentioned it. "Of the four of us in the car! We were just in a car!"

"Yeah, but it was dark outside," McGee tried to reason. "It's daylight."

"Maybe the dark is supposed to be symbolic, McGee!" Abby answered snappily.

"Symbolic for what?" he said as patiently as he could, an underlying tone of franticness in his voice.

"Death," Tony put in flatly.

We all looked at him.

"What else could it be?" he said like he was so sure of himself. "I can't think of anything else."

No one said anything immediately. Maybe he was right about it, I suddenly thought to myself. Maybe the dark outside the window was supposed to symbolize death; and maybe that picture of Tony in the hotel room, in bed, while it was dark outside meant something, too. The only thing that immediately came to me was the food poisoning. He had been practically confined to a bed, save for the few times he got up to do things. Was the food poisoning _supposed_ to kill him?

I felt like every limb in my body went numb for a moment. It _did_ make sense… but the idea of Tony dying really made me feel sick to my stomach. My stomach dropped and seemed to churn before I pulled myself together as best as I could. Even if I wanted to, I could not bring myself to say anything. I did not exactly want to say anything in fear that I would open up my mouth to speak and instead throw up before everyone.

Abby was not done freaking out. She was wondering – very loudly – how we were going to notify Gibbs of what had just happened. When we tried our phones, sometime after all that madness had happened, we were not able to get any reception – as if things were not already bad. We thought we could always walk back, but something told me that that probably was not a good idea. If we were brought there to be killed, what made us think that in any case that we survived, we would not be killed up ahead?

To our sheer luck (I had no idea how this happened), Gibbs suddenly pulled up along the road with Ducky in the passenger seat. He slammed on the brakes and practically yanked the car door open to rush over to us. He barely made it halfway when Abby ran towards him and threw her arms around him, enveloping him in a massive hug. I had to blink a few times to see if my vision had not been playing tricks on me. Was I really seeing Gibbs come to the rescue, or was I just imagining all that?

Although he was glad to see that we were visibly fine, Gibbs had no time to be giving and receiving hugs. "Are you okay, Abbs?" he asked, practically yanking her off him.

And so it began.

"Gibbs, it was horrible!" she wailed loudly. "First we got in the car, and we were all just talking and laughing and having fun, you know? And the next thing we know, we're trapped in this psycho car and about to die!"

She rambled on for a little bit longer before Gibbs cut her off and had Tony _calmly_ tell him exactly what had happened. I had tuned out soon after Abby began talking. Even if I had been listening to her, I probably would not have understood a word of what she was saying.

I had no idea how I was still able to stand on my feet, let alone how I was able to walk closer to everyone else. My legs felt like noodles. My heart was still racing against my chest, though it was nowhere close to the way it was when we were inside the car. I had no idea what McGee was doing, or what Abby was doing after Tony began explaining to Gibbs what had happened. I was convinced that I was not able to concentrate on something for more than minute. My head had begun to pound slightly, and I was very slowly beginning to feel dizzy, but I was still nauseated.

Gibbs asked me a few times (maybe once or twice; I don't really know) if I was okay, but I just nodded my answer. Ducky checked us out quickly, enough to see that we were okay, despite the bruises and scratches we all had. We all squeezed into his car in the backseats, and he explained to us that Brian Springer had rigged the car to blow up while we were driving down the road. He gave us the long version of the story, but none of us were listening – at least I was not. The only other thing I knew was that he was pretending to be helping us catch his brother when in reality, he was studying all of us enough for us to trust him and for him to lure us into his trap to kill us. I guessed he was pissed at NCIS for wanting to catch his murderer of a brother, but I did not know the full details. I still did not even know how Gibbs found us, even though he probably explained it on the way back to NCIS.

After the car ride back to the building, there were two things that were bothering me. Number one was that because nobody knew where Brian Springer was, the four of us had to be moved into a safe house – _all together_ – which, quite frankly, scared me on so many different levels. And number two, everyone was making it seem like I was a hero. They made it seem like thanks to me, we were all alive. Gibbs was not there to make them shut up because he was too busy talking to Vance while we were stuck in the bullpen.

I wanted them to stop telling me all those things, because I knew it was not true.

Gibbs told us that we were going to have to pack some things from our houses quickly so that we could be taken to the safe house. He said he would give us no more than twenty minutes in getting our stuff.

I expected him to be in a bad mood. I expected him to be angry at me for something, even though I could not think of anything that I had done wrong. I expected him to yell at me when he told everyone to go wait in his car and for me to stay behind. He noticed, after everyone left, that I was still shaky from what had happened. He took my hands in his, and I could feel their warmth. He looked me in the eyes, and I held his gaze.

"Ziver," he said gently, "you did a good thing today. Don't underestimate yourself. You helped save everyone's life out there."

_But I could have died, _I thought to myself as I stared at him.

"If you had died," he went on as though he could read my mind, "you would have died doing something great. You would have died a hero."

_But I am not a hero._

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Ziver," he said calmly. "Not everyone would have done what you did."

_What did I do? _

"Go home, get your things, and when you get to the safe house, try to rest," he said. I wondered if he knew what I was thinking and decided to avoid it. Anything was possible, actually. "You're going to be in enough pain as it is later," he went on. "So I want you to rest. I want all of you to rest. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Gibbs," I replied meekly.

Contrary to everyone's belief, I was far from a hero. I let this happen. It was all my fault.


	31. Safe, Part I

Hey, guys :) Super thanks for ALL the lovely reviews! They really make my day and help me now that this story is going much slower and throughout my anxiety to finish this already. Before I forget, I have a collab fic with Kristen (dolphin6457) and Bridge (burningbridges97) titled "NCIS: Exposed" under our account michaels-bed-bugs. So if anyone would like to check it out, feel free to do so. :P

Also, a fair warning here to everyone: This chapter is pretty dark. Darkity dark dark. Ye have been warned. If you don't think you can handle it, stop reading. If you want to keep reading in hopes that there will eventually be a happy ending, by all means, read on. Enjoy.

…..

:: Chapter 31 – Safe, Part I ::

After everything, there was silence.

We rode in Gibbs's car after we left the building. It seemed that none of us wanted to take the front seat; at least I knew I did not want to. But the four of us could not all squeeze into the backseats, although if we could have, we probably would have. Abby ended up taking the front seat. McGee was behind the driver's seat, Tony was in the middle, and I was sitting at his right hand side. A word was barely spoken throughout that entire car ride. Gibbs announced that he would take Abby to get her things first. She was out in seemingly record time. He gave her twenty minutes, and she took exactly twenty minutes. For Abby to be done with anything in that amount of time was unbelievable. Next, we went to McGee's house. He was done in much less time, but I did not understand was why Gibbs did not take us to our house first. Tony and I were living together, and we could have been done much quicker.

I gave it another thought. Maybe not.

When we were warned that we had twenty minutes to get our stuff and come back out, I felt like we rushed through the car door and into the house. I was amazed at how well my legs were doing, given the fact that they felt like noodles not too long ago.

The house was eerily silent. Okay, so it was always silent when we weren't around. The sounds of movies playing and Tony and I talking were absent, but still. It was a different kind of quiet. It was something I could not put my finger on. Then again, I could not put my finger on so many different things ever since that camera came into my life.

"Ziva," Tony's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and it did not take me long to realize that I was standing like an idiot right in front of the door. "We have to get our things. Go."

What I wanted to do was take a shower and get into bed. I was going to have time to do that once we arrived at the safe house, but the fact that two of my co-workers were going to be in the same place as me was not exactly my idea of alone time with my muddled thoughts.

I was seriously considering taking a shower before we left. I had no idea why – of all things – the only thing I could think of at that moment was a stupid shower.

Nevertheless, I went into our room and took out a duffel bag. I mentally went through a list of all the things I would need for God-knew-how-long we were going to be stuck at that safe house. I brought a few other shirts, underwear, socks, bras, pants, and a lot of other things. Needless to say, my duffel bag was a mess inside. Nothing was folded; everything was just carelessly tossed in there. Once I was done packing all the things I needed, I sat down at the edge of the bed and waited for Tony to be done. I could not believe that I was done before him, but I waited for him anyway. Ten minutes must have gone by.

I wondered if Gibbs was getting impatient yet, even though we still had a few more minutes to go.

"There are pillows at the safe house, right?" I asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence between us.

"Yeah," he said. "But they're not exactly the most comfortable pillows ever. We should bring our own."

"I do not want our pillows to get dirty," I said.

"They won't get dirty," he said.

"How do you know?"

"We've stayed at safe houses before. They're pretty clean."

"Pretty does not mean entirely."

Tony sighed and dropped whatever he was holding. He sat down on the bed next to me and placed his finger under my chin. He lifted my face so that I was looking at him and then placed his hand on my cheek. I could see some scratches on his arms and some light ones on his face, that for some reason, I had not remembered noticing before. "Whatever you're doing to blame yourself," he began, and I could swear that my heart skipped a beat when he said that, "stop. You know that none of this is your fault. You couldn't possibly have known that any of this was going to happen."

I nodded. "I know," I lied.

If he knew that I was lying, he did not show it. He gave me a small nod back. "I love you," he said.

"I love you, too."

"Now let's finish getting ready before Gibbs decides to have our asses."

We finished getting our things and walked out the door. I felt like I had not packed enough, but at the same time too much. Who knew how long we had to be in the safe house? It could have been one day, just as much as it could have been one week. I did not think I could take being there for one week. One week of sharing everything with not only Tony, but McGee and Abby as well. It was unnerving, and I was not entirely sure I could hold myself together for that period of time.

The car ride to the safe house was, if possible, even more silent than the ride to our houses. Nobody said a word. I hardly thought anyone was breathing, for that matter. The radio was off the entire time, and I think that may have been the best choice.

The entire time my mind was switching from one thought to another. Was the safe house clean? Would it be big enough for the four of us? Was it even truly safe? If I wanted to shower with Tony at any given point, would McGee and Abby press their ears against the door to listen? When was the actual pain from today going to kick in? I don't want to stay a week with all these people. What if I embarrassed myself in front of them? Where was I going to sleep? What if everyone started asking me questions to the point where I felt like I would explode from being so overwhelmed? Why doesn't my head just _shut up_ already?

I had no idea how much more time we spent in the car, but soon we arrived at the safe house. Gibbs helped us get our things from the car, and before he left, he said something to us, but my mind was elsewhere. When he left, we all stepped inside the house. It was uncomfortably quiet. Abby, for one, was being silent, when she would be the first one to say something.

Surprisingly, McGee was the one who spoke up first. "There's one room and a sofa-bed," he said. "Who takes what?"

Tony looked over at Abby and then at me, but I quickly looked away.

"I should go with Ziva, and you should go with Abby."

McGee looked like he was ready to agree, but Abby interrupted him.

"Actually," she said, "I think I should go with Ziva and you go with McGee."

"Do you think we're just going to randomly have sex?" Tony asked her.

She twisted her face in disgust. "You and McGee?"

He rolled his eyes. "Me and Ziva, Abby."

"Well… sex is good for stress, Tony," she said with a slight shrug.

McGee stepped in. "I highly doubt that will happen," he said. "It's already been a stressful day. We were almost killed." _Thank you for reminding me, McGee._ "The last thing on any of our minds should be sex."

"I don't see why not; it's good for stress," Abby argued, but dropped it with a shrug. "I see your point. But that's not why I suggested Ziva should go with me and that you should be with Tony. I guess I just think that we can have our own girl time and you guys should have your guy time."

"I already see him every day," Tony said.

McGee rolled his eyes.

"Okay, then," Abby said. "We'll take the room. You guys take the couch."

Tony was about to protest, but then closed his mouth and said, "Yeah. Take the room; it's better that way anyway. I'm not too crazy about sharing a couch with McGeek, but…."

"Oh, 'cause I'm so excited to be stuck with you, right?" McGee shot back. "You can take the couch, DiNozzo. I'm taking the chair."

I had no idea what else they were saying to each other, because soon after that, I blocked out everything they were saying. I walked into the bedroom, hearing Abby's light footsteps behind me. Once we were both in the room, she closed the door behind us. I could still hear Tony's and McGee's voices on the other side of the room, but I did not know what they were saying. I did not care either.

I set my things down next to the bed, and Abby did the same.

"I never thought that in these past few months I'd be sharing so many beds with you," she said in a light joking tone.

I said nothing in response to that. There was a bathroom inside the room, for which I was grateful for, and there was another one outside the room, which, no doubt, Tony and McGee were going to use. I stepped inside the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I did not want to seem rude and ignore Abby, but at that point, I did not care. I really did not want to be around her.

And then, of course, she walked into the bathroom with me. I was going to have to start doing this thing called _locking the damn door_, so that maybe people would get the hint.

"You know," she said as she looked at me through the mirror, "there have been times where I've been scared out of my mind, to the point where I seriously want to pass out from being so scared, but I don't because the adrenaline keeps me going; and, working for NCIS, you kinda get to experience almost everything… but I can honestly say that up till today, I have never been more scared in my entire life."

Was there a point to what she was saying? Because, really, I just wanted to take a shower and forget anything ever happened.

"I don't think I would have had the guts to do what you did."

I could not stop my words. "What did I do, Abby?"

For a moment, a glimmer of surprise flashed across her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She looked a little solemn and yet so expressionless at the same time. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what I mean," I said, trying not to sound or get so angry. "What did I do? I got out of the car like everyone else."

"Yeah, but you helped us out," she said. "And you shot the sunroof, which worked."

"Thanks to Tony. I did not even remember I had my gun with me."

"That doesn't matter. You still did it. I would have been way too freaked out to even do anything. I mean, I could barely even think straight. If everyone had been relying on me, we all would have been dead."

That may have been true, but even so, nothing she said made me think that any of this was not my fault. I did not want to talk to her anymore. I told her I was going to shower, and she left the bathroom to go find me a towel. I had not even noticed I did not have one; good thing she noticed, because I would not have noticed that until I got out. She came back in, handed me the towel and left. I stepped out of all my clothing and got inside the tub, after I filled it up.

I rested my back against the tub and slumped down a little. My chin was just right above the water. I allowed myself to relax a bit, but a few minutes after that, I began to feel a dull ache in my muscles. This was nothing. Later on, I knew I would feel it even worse – something I was not exactly looking forward to.

It was so easy, I suddenly told myself. All I had to do was pull my head underwater and breathe it all in – and before I even knew it, I would never feel anything again. But I quickly brushed that thought away. What was I even thinking? Committing suicide in a bathtub in a safe house?

Besides, that was not exactly a polite thing to do.

* * *

><p>When I was nine years old, I once tied my sister to a tree. She was five years old, and if anything was for sure, she deserved it. When my mother knew about what I had done, she was extremely angry. Tali had a few ant bites on her back and a cut in the sole of her left foot. The only thing I could undo about the entire thing was untie her from the tree, but thankfully, it did not leave her as traumatized as I would have imagined. It was a kiddy thing, and rarely did we look back at that moment.<p>

That, however, was not the case here. I could not undo anything. I could not snap my fingers and make everything and everyone okay. I had to face the facts and face the reality that was so ruthlessly right before me. This was not something we could push aside and ignore and never speak of again. And it was still my fault. I felt so guilty, but so incredibly physically drained to do anything about it.

After I dressed myself in the same clothes I had been wearing after I finished my bath and dried off, I headed straight to bed. Abby had been out in the living room area with Tony and McGee, and as soon as I left the bathroom, she went right in. I did not bother with changing my clothes and instead, crawled into the far end of the bed. I lay on my side, my back facing the door. Surprisingly enough, it did not take me long to fall asleep. I was out quickly, and it was only around two in the afternoon.

The moment I fell asleep, everything seemed to attack me at once. I continued to repeat the day's events in my dreams. We were stuck in the car again, and that fear that rose and settled in my throat was there again, even though I knew it was over. If I was not dreaming about that, I was dreaming of my sister Tali and watching her get blown up to bits. I dreamed of the time I killed Ari, and when I got the news that my mother was dead, and those three torturous months that were spent in Somalia. I hated not being able to wake up from my dreams.

When I finally woke up, it was around six forty-five. Luckily, there was a clock on both night tables on either side of the bed that marked the correct time. When I tried to move, a sharp pain shot up through almost every limb in my body, rendering me almost immobile. I moaned to myself, but it was not quiet enough.

Whoever was next to me began to stir. I could not even look over my shoulder, because it would have hurt too much. It felt like I was trapped in my own body.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I knew it was not Tony who was next to me. It was Abby. Her voice sounded anything but groggy, and I could not tell if she had slept at all since I fell asleep. "Hey, Ziva, are you okay?" she asked.

I was not exactly sure how to answer the question. I did not want to flat out say, _Everything hurts right now, _but the truth was that I was not okay in any sense of the word – but more physically right now than anything else. I tried to answer her, but I could not. She seemed to get the hint, to my surprise.

"I'll go get some Tylenol," she said. "I knew this was going to happen."

She left the room a few moments later. I still lay on my side, unable to move without feeling like something inside me had been set on fire. I heard Abby outside talking to McGee and Tony.

"Guys, do you know where the Tylenol is? Ziva's awake, and she's in pain."

Pain was an understatement, I thought. This went beyond pain. I managed to sit up in bed, although by the time I did, my whole body had a virtually searing pain running through it. Tony came into the room, and I could only assume that Abby was still looking for the stupid pills. He sat down next to me and, taking my hands in his, said, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," I said through slight gritted teeth.

"I would've asked you to take a Tylenol sooner, but you were sleeping this entire time, and… I didn't want to disturb you."

If I was awake, I was weighed down by the heavy burden of guilt. If I was asleep, I was plagued by nightmares. Both were equally as bad, and it did not make a difference if I was asleep or awake. I deserved either punishment. "It is fine, Tony."

He held my gaze for a moment, and somewhere in the back of my mind I thought to myself that Abby was taking forever. Tony reached out an arm to brush back a piece of hair that was in the way. "You've been having nightmares again, haven't you?" he asked, his voice lowering down just a little bit.

I avoided the question and threw one back at him. He took this as my way of saying yes. "How are you feeling?"

He sighed inwardly. "Just fine. Still a little achy, but it could be worse."

Before the conversation could go anywhere, Abby entered the room with a glass of water and a pill in the palm of her hand. I took it, and after that, tried to go back to sleep. Tony said that if I needed anything to let him know, and then left back to go back to the living room. I did not know when Abby came back, because soon after that, I went back to sleep.

When I woke up for the second time, it had been two hours later. It was almost nine o' clock. I was not hurting so much anymore; everything had been reduced to a little less than a dull ache. Abby was asleep next to me, her back facing me and her breathing coming in a relaxed and steady rhythm. She didn't stir when I moved, so I knew she was out for a while. McGee and Tony were probably asleep as well, since it was very quiet.

I carefully got out of bed and tip-toed to the door. I opened it just enough for me to be able to poke my head out. There was no movement from what I could see, so I knew McGee and Tony were definitely asleep. They definitely needed it after today. I went back to get a coat that I had brought with me and quietly slipped out of the house. Thankfully, for me, no one noticed. And with that, I was out the door.

It was dark outside, and only the crappy lighting of the porch illuminated enough for me to walk down the steps without tripping. I was finally alone, away from anyone trying to tell me that none of this was my fault, thus leaving me alone with my thoughts. That was not a very good idea; I was still feeling so guilty that I was surprised at the one thought that kept resurfacing at the front of my mind.

_Go kill yourself. _

The most that I knew about the safe house was that further down east there was a small lake. Since it was dark outside, there was no way I was going to be able to see it in the dark, but maybe that was supposed to be the fun part about it. If I continued to walk ahead, I could have come across it and tripped in and…

_That will not work. Let's spice things up a little bit…_ I bent down and felt around the ground until I found a rather big rock. It was not too small, but it was not, what I would call, ginormous either. It was fine; and just like that, I stuffed it into my pocket. I immediately reached out for another rock, and when I found one, I stuffed into my other pocket. With all the rocks I put inside my pockets, the heavier the coat became. All kinds of thoughts were running through my mind, but I could not stop myself from doing anything. I thought I may have been in too deep.

"_Would you ever take your own life if you could, Ziva?" _

_My eyes met my little sister's brown ones, which were full of curiosity and a little bit of worry, though her stance was upright and confident. "Why do you ask that?" _

"_Sometimes life surprises you," she answered. "And maybe sometimes there is no way out. Maybe sometimes taking your own life is the solution to certain problems in life." _

"_No, Tali," I said sternly. "Suicide is never the answer." _

I never believed it was; but lately, I'd begun to doubt it. If anyone asked me how my sister was killed, I would say that she was killed in a suicide bombing. And she was right that sometimes life surprised people. That was certainly the case with me.

Maybe she was right about what she had said about taking one's own life.

"_Okay." She pursed her small, pink lips. "But if you were to take your own life, how would you do it?" _

_I had never given it much thought. I asked her back, just out of sheer curiosity. _

"_I would take a very long rope and tie one end around my neck and the other end around a nearby tree. Then, I would get inside a car and drive off as fast as I can – so my head can come off." _

_That was a horrible thing to hear. _

"_You must be brave then," I told her. _

"_Oh, but I would also be a coward!" _

"_How so?" _

"_Because I would be too afraid to deal with life's problems." _

"_What happened to sometimes there is no way out and taking your own life would be the only solution?" I said. _

"_That is true," she replied thoughtfully. "But tomorrow is a brand new day, yes? How would you know the joys that tomorrow brings if you take your own life today?" _

Then again, she was sometimes a bit indecisive.

As I continued to walk, I hurled a rock in the air and heard it land a few feet away. Wherever I was, I was nowhere near that lake.

But with every passing minute, my coat became heavier and tears flowed down my cheek, blurring out the few shadows I could still very faintly make out in the darkness.

To answer your question, Tali, I would drown myself.

_I could not believe my ears. Situated at the top of the stairs, my heart sunk and settled into my stomach. I could not believe everything I was hearing, the horrible truth. But I had to do was right, no matter how much the truth hurt. When things looked like they were about to take a turn for the worse, I aimed my gun and fired one shot into my brother's forehead. _

_I held my breath and stood unmoving for a few seconds. But I quickly, though forcefully, gathered myself and slowly crept down the wooden staircase, every step softly creaking under my weight._

_I had not yet fully processed the fact that I had just killed my brother; it barely scratched the surface. Seeing him dead on the floor with blood pooling underneath and around his head should have been more than I could take. _

_Should have been. It was not. _

_He was my brother, but he had killed an agent, and he got what he deserved. The price he had to pay for killing an innocent person cost him his life, but he had it coming. I was convinced that although he was older than me, I probably had done more horrible things than he did when he was alive. _

So I deserved this – and that was just to put it lightly.

My feet picked up speed, to the point where my coat felt as light as a feather. I had to have been running, but I was not entirely sure. I came to a complete stop right in front of the lake. It took me a moment or two to realize where I was. The moon above shone brightly, its light reflecting on the bright water below, making it easier for me to see my surroundings a lot clearer.

I stepped closer to the lake and sat down on the cold, hard ground. It felt damp. I inched closer and dipped my feet in. The water was a little cold, but my feet soon felt comfortable. I began to feel another round of dull aching in my body, but I ignored it.

I wondered to myself if everyone back in the house noticed that I was gone. I should have left a good-bye note or something, I thought to myself. I pulled my body forward a little more, dipping my feet further into the water. I had to bite back a sob as I did. I was thinking about Abby and McGee and Tony.

Abby would be a mess – at first. She had already suffered through the death of Kate and Jenny and my absence when I was held hostage in Somalia. But she would be okay. She always was. She had McGee, she had Bert, she had everyone, and she did not even like me that much anyway. The same went for McGee, although he would have been saddened more than Abby would.

But they'd get over it quickly, because that was just them.

I was clinging on to something as I pushed myself further, my waist almost completely in. I suddenly asked myself about Tony. What would he think? How would he react? He would be more crushed than I could possibly imagine, and, like me, think that all the important people in his life always seem to be taken away from him. I could not do that to him. I could not be so selfish and hurt him like that.

And I could not go through with it, even though I deserved it.

Still grasping on to whatever it was that I was holding on to, I pushed myself back, pulling the little bit I got inside the water out. My coat did not feel so heavy anymore, but I took it off and tossed it aside. I had no idea what to feel anymore. Remorse? Relief? Happiness? Sadness?

"_Sometimes," my sister said, "you just have to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward." _

"_But if you do not?" _

"_Then you are a quitter." _

Maybe I was not completely a quitter, but I just wanted to give up. What I would have done to just go to sleep and never wake up to another painful and heart-wrenching day. To go to sleep and never have to worry about whomever was messing around with me and making me see things I did not want to see. Was it too much to ask for a little bit of mental peace?

With a soaking-wet bottom half, aching limbs, and pounding head, I got up and headed back to the safe house. I thought I heard a faint rustling of bushes behind me and the soft paddle of footsteps, like that of a child's. It briefly reminded me of the times my father would take me and my sister, completely blindfolded, into a forest to find our way out. We were young, and I could remember the way her little barefoot feet sounded against the ground as she walked around, trying to find her way out.

Then again, it could have just been my imagination. I could not hear much over the sound of my own crying.


	32. Safe, Part II

Hello to everyone again and thanks for all the lovely reviews! :) To my old reviewers, where are you guys? I miss you! :( Anyway, so sorry to keep you waiting - this chapter was a hard one. I'll try not to take almost a month again, but no promises. :( I'm sorry last chapter was so depressing, but meh. There will probably be other dark chapters as well.

A huge ginormous thanks to Emily, aka** the-sun-princess** for helping me out with this chapter. Thanks a lot for all your help. :D I'm just going to come out and say it, though: this chapter freaking sucks _anyway_, so I apologize in advance.

…..

:: Chapter 32 – Safe, Part II ::

I did not realize right away that I looked like I'd been attacked – albeit weakly – until I received these looks from Tony and McGee. I was not loud or disruptive when I came back inside the house, but my footsteps sounded a little heavy on the wooden floor. The floor was a wet mess underneath my feet, and that sound alone was enough to wake both men up from their possibly restless sleep.

McGee took a little longer to register what was going on. Tony immediately tossed the blanket he had over himself off and rushed over to me. McGee followed behind a few seconds later.

"Ziva?" Tony's voice did not even sound the least bit groggy. He sounded so concerned, which only made me feel worse about what I had tried to do. He came up to me and immediately held my face between the palm of his hands. "What happened to you? Were you attacked? Are you okay?"

I could not even give him an answer. He looked like he was desperate to get an answer, and McGee looked like he was scared shitless, as he more than half of the times did. They ran with the I-was-attacked thing, and I never even gave them an answer. The fact that I was crying shamelessly and was wet from my waist down was enough for them to be convinced that I had been attacked. Tony told McGee to check out the area outside, but the seemingly-chaotic atmosphere woke Abby up. She did not look too groggy herself.

I guessed everyone was having trouble falling asleep.

"What's going on?" Abby asked when she stepped out of the room we had been sharing. She became more alert when she saw me. "Whoa, what happened?"

"Ziva was attacked!" Tony said.

"Attacked?" Abby repeated. "Who would attack her? We're at a safe house!"

"Abby, why don't you help Ziva clean up?" McGee offered helpfully. "Tony and I will check outside."

She nodded. "Alright, I will," she told them, almost shooing them away. "Go!"

Soon, both men were out the door, and Abby took me inside the bathroom, where she closed the door behind us. She was not as hysterical as I expected her to be. Something was a little bit off; it was like she _knew_ something.

I sat down on the edge of the tub. Abby approached me. She gave me a good look; the only thing her face gave away was that she was deciding on what to say first. For once, Tony's and McGee's anger was clouding their ability to think straight, and Abby, who was always the first one to lose her cool, was calm and collected. After a few moments of uneasy silence, she said, "Did you see who your attacker was?"

I did not answer.

She went on anyway, "Do you know what happened?"

I remained silent, but I continued to hold her gaze. For a moment, she looked like she was choosing her next words carefully. It took a few moments before she said, still in a calm and collected and low voice, "Honey, there are no obvious signs of a struggle on you anywhere, or anything that might even tell me that you were attacked." I thought I saw a dark look cut across her eyes for a brief moment. "You weren't attacked, were you?" she said.

I shook my head, trying to hold back the tears I knew would eventually be inevitable. It did not make a difference anyway; I was already a mess.

"What _really_ happened, Ziva?"

If I could barely tell her, I knew it would be a nightmare telling Tony. Then again, maybe not. I did not know.

I had no idea what was going through Abby's mind at the moment, but she decided that before she would get an answer out of me, she would help me get into some new and clean clothes, even though I really needed a shower. By the time I had finished drying myself off a little and putting some new clothes on, Tony and McGee were coming back inside. They said that they were not able to find anyone outside, but I had no clue how far they had searched.

Abby and I were back in the room we had been sharing, and aside from her helping me into some new clothes, we had not really talked, and no one knew what had really happened. I sat down on the edge of the bed, suddenly feeling more exposed than I would have liked. My heart was thumping crazily against my chest with anxiety, although I played it cool on the outside.

"Want me to get Tony?" Abby asked me. I only nodded.

She gave me a sympathetic look and went outside the door. If she called Tony out loud or whispered to him, I had no idea. I did not hear her. I was too busy wondering how I was going to explain it, because, like it or not, he was going to have to find out. And this was not exactly an easy thing to explain. How would I tell my boyfriend that I just attempted to drown myself? I did not expect him to be very flattered to hear that thinking of him made me stop myself before I did something I could not undo.

Tony came into the room, and the moment he did, Abby walked out. I felt my heart jump into my throat. It couldn't get any more real than this. But I had to do it. _Had_ to.

He was quiet when he came in. He shut the door behind him and walked over to the bed to sit by me. He placed his hand on the side of my face, and it took almost all my willpower to hold back the more tears that so desperately wanted to come. "Are you okay, Zee?"

I was not sure whether to shake my head and say no, or nod and say yes. I kind of shrugged, if I could even call it that, and avoided his gaze. I could tell he was staring at me, his eyes boring right into mine, as he tried to figure out what to say next. He rubbed his thumb across my cheek and, with all the patience he could muster at this time of the night, said, "Tell me what happened out there."

The look on his face told me that he did not entirely believe that I was attacked by someone out there, but he did not know what. He was trying to think of something in his head, trying to find something that sounded and seemed reasonable, but could not come up with anything. He wanted to know exactly what happened from me, and he needed to know.

The mere thought of it sent my blood running cold and my heart to constrict almost painfully. He must have realized something about me that seemed a little off and said, with worry in his voice, "Ziva? Tell me what happened."

I wanted to tell myself that it was now or never, although I knew it was not true. Not telling him was not an option. I did something – or almost did something – stupid and had to take responsibility for it. But it was so hard.

I probably looked like a complete moron, let alone a wreck, when I let a few tears fall. Though I was only throwing glances at him, but watching him out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Tony looked scared. He had no idea what to expect, but by the looks of it, whatever he was expecting was something bad. It looked like he was expecting me to say that I was raped or something awful like that.

"I was not attacked, Tony," I managed to say. Part of me told me to make up an excuse and let it go, and the other half urged me to go on. I was not exactly torn; I was mostly dreading his reaction to this.

"You weren't attacked?" he said surprised. "If you weren't attacked, then what happened to you?"

My mouth hung open for a moment as I tried to will the words out. I thought maybe I could say it really quickly or drop him a few hints – anything to keep me from directly saying I literally tried to commit suicide. But I knew I had to say it, and I had to say it in a way he would understand. No hints, no hiding anything, no putting it off for a later time. It had to be the truth.

"Ziva," Tony said carefully, still looking alarmed, to say the very least, "you're really starting to scare me. _What happened?_"

"I… I put a coat on and went outside, and… and I filled it up with rocks, and…" _What am I even saying? _I thought to myself._ It is not a lie, but is he even understanding what I am trying to say? _He seemed to get the hint, though. Something inside him seemed to click. He must have put together what I said with the fact that I came back half wet; although I could only assume he already knew there was a lake around.

I could see that look of shock in his eyes. His eyes alone held anger, but they were masked with shock, fear, worry, and panic. I could tell his blood ran cold as he froze for a moment. He was numb, and his mind was reeling from so many thoughts at once. Although he did not say anything at first, I knew there was a lot going on inside his mind.

I opened my mouth to speak, to say _any damn thing,_ but nothing came out.

"You tried to…" he spoke before he trailed off. "You really just tried to…"

I still could not say a word. He was contemplating what to do next, but he finally just stood up and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I stared after him, not exactly sure what to make of that. I told myself that he did not slam the door shut, so he must not have been _that_ mad; but, honestly, who was I kidding? I had told him – or tried, before he figured it out on his own – that I tried to drown myself. This was not something anyone could just brush off and forget about overnight.

I remained sitting at the edge of the bed, the palm of my hands gripping at my knees. My heart was still beating mercilessly against my chest, and I was unsure of what to expect. I would not have been surprised if Tony suddenly wanted to ignore me for what I'd done, but for a split second, when he walked into the bathroom, I could not tell what he was thinking. Aside from all the thoughts running around like crazy, I had no idea what was the _one exact thing_ that stood out.

After a minute or so – which felt like a freaking eternity to me – the bathroom door opened, and Tony stepped out. He did not make it far; he only leaned against the doorframe and looked straight at me, but something about him looked different than it did a few minutes ago. His features looked just a little softer, and he looked… inviting.

I hesitated for a moment, but took the opportunity to stand up and run into his embrace. He wrapped me up in his arms tightly, and I only sobbed against him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm so sorry, Tony." I had no idea how many times I repeated it, but I said it over and over again, losing count after a while.

He ran his fingers through my hair as he rested his cheek on the top of my head. He was whispering things I could not really make out over the sound of my crying. When he thought the sobbing was dying down, he led me back to the bed. I did not exactly feel the greatest, but the fact that he was simply there for me instead of running off meant the world to me.

"Tony, I'm so sorry," I said again.

"Shh," he said soothingly as he continued to run his fingers back through my hair, "shh. It's okay, sweetheart, I'm here."

But it was not okay, and we both knew it.

I had to contain another sob that threatened to take hold of me. I let out another quiet, choked sob, and hung my head. I tried to avoid the eye contact, because I felt so terrible in every sense of the word. As he used one hand to run his fingers through my hair in a calming motion, he used his other hand to stroke the side of my face and wipe a few tears away.

"Look at me, Zee," he said gently.

I didn't.

"Hey," he said, still gently, "look at me, baby, please." I finally looked up at him and met his teary eyes. I'd done this, I told myself, half scolding. I just could not do anything right for once – ever.

"I can understand why you tried to do what you did, Zee," he told me. "Whoever is doing this to you – to _us_ – is being relentless beyond belief, and I understand that you're tired in every way possible. Believe me when I tell you that I know what it's like to feel completely helpless and like you want to give up. But, Ziva, I'm here for you, and no matter what happens, I will always be here for you. I have your back in everything, and I'm always going to have your back. If there's ever something that's bothering you, I want you to come talk to me about it."

There was something about his body language that told me there was more that he wanted to say.

"I just…" He had to stop and keep his composure steady, even if he had to hang on to it by a thread. He recovered quickly, though it looked just a little forced. "I don't want to lose you, Ziva." He gave another pause, and the only thing I could do was just look. I could not bring myself to say anything. If I did, it would probably be another weak and meaningless apology. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose you. Every day, I'm afraid that this is going to take toll on you worse than the day before and just kill you."

If I did not get to myself first, that was.

I wanted to do something to make him feel better, but nothing came to me. He pulled me into his embrace again, and I allowed myself to go into it. I could not stop myself from crying, although it had died down considerably compared to a little bit ago. My face was buried into the crook of his neck, and I must have been drenching him in snot, but I paid no attention to that, and if he did, he did not say anything about it.

The only thing I could continue to say was that I was sorry, so sorry.

After a while, I started to feel really tired. My eyes were getting droopy, and Tony seemed to pick up on it. He pulled away from me and without another word, helped me get into bed. He was right beside me, his hands going around my waist protectively. He probably thought that this way I could not leave the bed, not that I intended to. I was too tired to even do anything else.

Tony's hand went up to my hair, and he began to run his fingers through it and fight his way through some tangles. That alone made me even sleepier, but for some reason I held back for a little bit longer. Silence settled between us, and it was both comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.

"Tony?" I suddenly said, my mouth working ahead of my mind.

"Yeah?" he answered a little uncertainly.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

* * *

><p>When I woke up again, it was almost three in the morning. I had to stop for a moment and dwell on the fact that I <em>actually<em> slept a few hours, even though it had not been a good sleep. All night, I continued to dream about Tali and when she died and Ari and when I killed him. The next thing I noticed was that Tony was not beside me anymore. There was a dull ache running through my body, but I was able to sit up in bed without my muscles protesting too much.

After a moment, I heard voices coming from outside the door. I couldn't quite make out what anyone was saying, but I recognized Tony's voice. I got out of the bed and walked up to the door. I carefully opened it just a little so that I could hear what was being said more clearly.

Tony was talking to McGee and Abby about what had happened. I was not yet sure how to feel about that, but I had to give him credit for waiting until I was completely asleep to leave and talk to everyone else. He could not possibly know that I was going to wake up at the moment he decided to go talk to the others.

After Abby and McGee both asked him something that I did not catch, he said to them, "Ziva wasn't attacked."

"Well, what happened to her?" Abby asked him. "She didn't tell me."

I wasn't expecting him to come out and say it so bluntly. A chill went down my spine, and I got goosebumps just hearing him say it. "She tried to commit suicide."

There was a moment of silence before I could hear McGee's voice. I hadn't realized that I'd been holding my breath after Tony mentioned that, waiting for a reaction that I was not sure how it would go. It could have gone any way. I released that breath I had no idea I was holding when I heard McGee say, "Oh, Abby…."

And then that's when I heard a little sob coming from Abby. It sounded just a little muffled, so I pictured her in McGee's embrace, her face buried into his neck as she let out a sob and he tried to comfort her.

"Abbs," I heard him say, "just calm down. Everything's fine."

"Everything's not fine, Tim!" she snapped back at him, her voice not sounding muffled anymore. I'd only assumed she pulled away now. "Ziva tried to kill herself! There's nothing fine about that!" I wondered what Tony was doing; he was too quiet. Abby went on, regardless, "I can't calm down; I'll never be able to calm down!"

"Abby," Tony finally spoke, "you can rant all you like right now, but lower your voice. Ziva's still sleeping."

She did a little bit, but if I had been asleep, I probably would not have heard her anyway. It did not matter to me how loud they were talking.

"I'm worried about her!" she continued. "Ziva hasn't been herself for months! It's like she's transformed into a completely different person now. And this stupid camera thing isn't helping at all either. With seeing her sister's death in the camera and God-knows-what else, I don't exactly blame her, but…" She sniffled and went on, "I'm still worried about her. I'm afraid we're going to lose her if we don't do something to help. I mean, first Kate, and now…" She trailed off, but I was not sure if someone shushed her or not.

"That's not going to happen, Abbs," McGee told her, trying to help. "It's Ziva. She'll pull through. She always does."

"Oh, Tim, for the love of God!" she said. "Stop using that excuse! So what if it's Ziva? She's human, like the rest of us! Just because she's Ziva doesn't mean she'll automatically pull through, like something in her will eventually restart and just go back to the normal her!"

"I'm just trying to help, Abby," he explained calmly.

"I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I just wish there was something we could do."

Tony finally spoke again. "Right now, the only thing we can do for her is to be there for her. Not try to overwhelm her or smother her with protection, but just be there for her. She thinks everything is her fault. She has nightmares about her sister and her dead family members. I think we could offer her some support."

"Okay," Abby said with a sniffle. "I promise not to attack her with questions."

I didn't hear McGee say anything.

"I should have been paying more attention," Tony then said, and I could not help but wonder if he was speaking to the others or more to himself. "I should have talked to her about it more. She was feeling guilty; she was thinking this was all her fault. I should have stayed with her. I should have been paying attention. But _no_ – I'm an idiot, and I fall asleep, and she goes off and tries to kill herself, and what the hell am I doing? Sleeping, that's what."

"Tony, you couldn't have known," Abby told him. "If anything, I was the one who suggested that she should be with me instead of you. Really, it's my fault."

So now everything was everyone's fault? I could not listen to anymore. I should have gone back to bed and to sleep, but I knew that sleep was not going to come again. And if it did, it was not going to be a restful sleep. Instead, I quietly closed the door again and went into the bathroom. I quietly shut the bathroom door, and sank down to the floor. I had not fully taken into account the tears that were streaming down my face; the moment I tried to rub any traces of tiredness from my eyes was when I noticed I was crying again.

I lost track of time once more as I sat on the floor, not particularly looking at anything. At some point, I thought I heard a knock on the door, but I was not entirely sure. The door opened anyway and Tony walked inside.

I did not say anything, but I really did not need to. He knelt down to be at eye level before me and said, "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

I did not want to tell him that I had been listening to his conversation with Abby and McGee, so instead, I told him something else, which was not a lie; I'd just left out a few details. "Nothing happened," I told him. "I just can't sleep."

"I was talking to Abby and McGee," he said. "I didn't mean to leave you alone."

The way I saw it, he sounded like he was sorry for stepping outside of the room. "It's fine, Tony," I said.

"No, it's not," he answered with a sigh and sat down right in front of me.

I looked up at him, a little curious. "You are sorry for leaving the room in the middle of the night and going to talk to McGee and Abby?" When I said it like that, it sounded ridiculous, to say the least. I had an idea of what he meant, but I was not entirely sure. And I was pretty tired anyway.

"No, I'm sorry for leaving you alone."

"Tony, you only left the room," I said. "What is there to be sorry about?"

"I shouldn't have left you alone," he said. "That's what I meant."

"I am fine. It is no big deal. You are back now."

"Still," he went on as though I had not said anything just now. "I shouldn't have left you alone at all." He paused for a moment, looked at me, and then continued. "I haven't been by your side at all since what happened today, and I'm sorry about that. I should have been with you; I shouldn't have left your side. If I hadn't, _this_ could have been avoided."

I really did know what to say to that. Perhaps he was right and perhaps not. I could not tell for sure if all this would have been avoided if he had been sleeping by my side instead of Abby. I could not tell for sure if this was inevitable or not. I just shook my head at him and said, "This is not your fault, Tony. None of this is your fault. I don't really want to talk about this right now. We are still in the bathroom."

He nodded a little. "Okay," he said. "Why don't we go back to bed? We can talk about this when you're ready."

"I can't sleep," I said.

He was quiet for a moment before he finally spoke. "Nightmares?"

I nodded a little, but I had no idea if he even caught it. "I close my eyes, and the first thing I see is Tali getting blown up." I did not wait for him to say anything else. "And… Ari."

I did not look him in the eyes when I said that, but I could feel that he was deep in thought. The topic of my late brother was not exactly a light one, if one could even call it that. He was my brother and someone I looked up to when I was young, and I had many more good memories than bad with him. But everyone else did not have any good memories, let alone thoughts of him, especially since he killed a member of Gibbs's team before the inevitable came.

Somehow, deep inside, I still felt like they all secretly had something against me for being Ari's half-sister, as though they held that over my head or something.

"I'm sorry, sweetcheeks," Tony said as he took my hands in his. I still avoided eye contact with him, but I could feel him looking directly at me now. "I know we've all had our conflicts with him and all, but… it must have been so hard to work with the man that killed your brother."

_Oh, my God._

I immediately looked up at him, having been thrown off-guard a little. I could not believe he just mentioned that, even more when that was not the truth. All these years, what really happened that day had been kept secret from everyone, including Tony. I was not expecting that at all, but on the inside, I was berating myself for never having mentioned that before to anyone.

"What?" he said in that you're-really-scaring-me-right-now tone of voice. "What's wrong?"

How was I going to say this now? I was not prepared for this in the slightest, and worst of all, I had no idea how he would react to this. At least I could take a guess at how he would react when I told him I tried to kill myself, but this? And _now,_ of all times? My heart skipped a beat – maybe two – before constricting painfully. If I did not say anything now, this was going to consume me alive. "Gibbs did not kill Ari," I said, trying so damn hard to keep my voice from breaking. I failed; Tony saw through me anyway. "I did."

He took a moment to absorb this, the wheels in his head working at a few hundred miles per second. His face was virtually unreadable. But a moment turned into what felt like an eternity, and my heart was thudding ruthlessly against my chest, to the point where I swore we both heard it. Whenever his face was blank like that, I braced myself for the worst, all the while hoping for the best. I hated this wait.

"You killed your brother?" he repeated. That was not quite what I was hoping to hear him say, but at least he _said_ something.

I nodded. Aside from the fresh tears streaming down my face, I probably looked really calm, but the truth was that my heart was still thundering against my chest. I could not think of a time where I felt so anxious to get a response from someone. But this was not just anyone; this was Tony, my boyfriend, my best friend, and he deserved to know the truth about this.

"You killed your brother…" he said again, looking thoughtful among other things, "to… save Gibbs?"

I nodded again, but no words came out of my mouth.

"Oh, Ziva…" He pulled me into his embrace, but I was all cried out.

I could not even sob anymore; I hardly had the energy to do so, and even if I wanted to, I had to take into consideration that Abby and McGee were still in the living room and that I did not want them to hear me. Perhaps that could have been considered a pride or an ego thing, but of all the things I cared about at the moment, that was not one of them. I was already dreading having to face Abby and McGee about what I tried to do.

"I… I don't even know what to say," Tony said as he smoothed out my hair. "Does anyone else know?"

I shook my head against his shoulder.

"Why haven't you said anything before?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

I pulled away from him and looked at him in the eyes. "You are not mad?"

"Why would I be mad?" he said, sounding surprised and appalled that I would even ask such a thing. "I'm not mad that you haven't told me. Sure, I wish I would have known about that earlier, but I know now."

"You would not have trusted me again if I had told you earlier," I said.

"Yes, I would have," he insisted. "I trust you with my life, Ziva. And if you're thinking that it was villainous or traitor-ish of you to kill your own brother, then you're wrong. I probably wouldn't have trusted you if you'd told me that around the time you came to NCIS, but I certainly would have trusted you later on. The fact that you would kill your own brother to save someone you hardly even knew says a lot about you."

_Yes, _I thought._ It says that I'm a murderer, and now I can't stop thinking about that moment._

"But…" I began to say, feeling myself at a seemingly total loss of words.

"But nothing," he finished and looked at me straight in the eyes. "Ziva, you have to realize that not every single thing in life is your fault or that it automatically makes you a terrible person. Ari had it coming; it wasn't like you killed him for no reason. And for Gibbs, no less. I think that makes you extremely loyal."

No matter how many times my brother and his death were mentioned, it still felt like a knife was being pierced through my heart. He may have had it coming, and it may have been inevitable, but they didn't know him the way I did, and it still hurt to think of the very moment I killed him.

"I shot him," I said. "In the head. The same way he killed Kate."

The dull ache I had woken up with continued to pound through what felt like every inch of my body. Everything in me was telling me to go back to bed and rest. And as much as I tried to ignore it, I could not. My head was going to explode if I had to talk about this more. I would have to wait until tomorrow and hope that I could sleep and feel better the next day. That, of course, was not going to happen. It would be a long time – if ever – that I would feel good again. In the meantime, I would have to deal with the aftermath of an attempted suicide, telling Tony the truth of my brother's death, and nightmares of my brother and sister.

"I'm sorry, Ziva," Tony said. "I'm sorry you had to do that and go through this."

I changed the subject. "Aren't Abby and McGee still out there?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why?"

"Are you just going to keep them waiting?"

"They can wait. I have more important things to take care of right now."

"Can we go to bed now?"

He got up from the floor and helped me up to my feet. I did not know if he noticed, but on the way out, I completely avoided looking at myself in the mirror. I was not sure what to expect if I looked; and I was not sure if I would like whatever was on the other side. We just went back to bed, but the rest of the night was restless as expected.

* * *

><p>Gibbs stopped by in the morning. He had coffee and muffins for all of us, and although everyone was more than eager to take some, I was reluctant. But the way Gibbs was staring at me and the way Tony was looking at me was enough for me to take it before they decided to force me to take it.<p>

Abby and McGee feigned normalcy. They acted like everything was alright, but they had no idea that I knew that they knew about what had happened the night before. I could feel them feeling sorry for me, and whenever it became quiet among the four of us, the air became thick with their sympathy towards me.

With Gibbs in the room, however, there was none of that. He would look at me as though he had something he wanted to say. I wished he would come out and say whatever it was he was going to say.

At one point, McGee asked about Brian Springer and if he'd been caught yet. Gibbs said something, and I only pretended to listen as I took a bite out of the blueberry muffin he had gotten for us. It tasted bitter and disgusting, but I did not want anyone to think I was sick for not wanting to eat. My appetite was lost. I had to finish swallowing the rest of it with the coffee that tasted like hell.

"So, does that mean we can go home soon?" McGee wondered.

My attention was immediately on Gibbs. Could we get out of here? It had only been a short while, but I hated being in this stupid safe house.

"Well, McGee, we've almost got him. The latest you should be leaving this safe house should be tomorrow."

Everyone fell silent and did not say a word until Gibbs spoke. "DiNozzo, McGee, Abby, give a moment. I need to talk to Ziva."

Well, I was not expecting that, and by the looks of it, no one else did either. Tony, McGee, and Abby looked at me and then at Gibbs. I guess no one was really expecting Gibbs to want to speak to me privately; but I'm sure we all had an idea of what he was going to say to us. At least I did.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Tony asked.

"I don't know – outside, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped at him.

No one said anything after that. Abby and McGee stepped outside to the porch quietly, with Tony behind. He looked hesitant, among other things, but decided to avoid arguing with Gibbs and joined Abby and McGee outside.

I was not sure of anything at that moment. I was not sure if Gibbs was going to tell me that he knew what I'd done, or yell at me, or ask me to give him an excuse, or whatever. The silence between us and in the house was unsettling. He took his time to speak – as he sometimes did – adding to my anxiety. "Are you okay, Ziver?"

"I'm fine," I lied, but of course, we both knew I was lying.

"Anything going on lately?" he asked.

"No."

He remained quiet for a moment. "Okay, well, answer me this."

My blood ran cold for a moment in anticipation of what was possibly to come. I was certain he was going to say something about last night, but what he said, although it was in relation to what happened last night, was not exactly what I was expecting. He did not wait for me to answer him, and went on to say, "Did you go for a swim yesterday or something?"

"No," I said.

"Then why did I find your coat near the lake not too long ago?"

"How do you know it's not Abby's coat?" I could not believe I said that, but he did not seem fazed by it.

He raised his eyebrows at me before saying, "Because I know." I looked away for a moment, trying to avoid his gaze, but he had his eyes fixed on me. I looked back at him and he said, "Did something happen that I should know about, Ziver?"

_So many_ things happened, actually. In my head, I pictured myself telling him about everything, but that was only in my head. In this cruel reality, I dared to say, "I don't want to talk about it, Gibbs."

He glared at me for a few more moments, his expression a little unreadable, but gentle all the same. I was surprised – and perhaps just a little intimidated – when he stepped up to me, leaving only a few inches of space between us. I almost flinched when placed his hand on the side of my neck and said, in a low voice, "We'll talk about this later, Ziver." His eyes glistened with concern and his voice held an attempt at sounding reassuring. "Okay?"

I nodded, hoping to myself that later never came.


	33. Safe, Part III

I want to thank everyone who sent me nice messages and stuff – you guys are the absolute best! Also, thanks to everyone who's been patient throughout this long wait. Please review if you can, 'cause at this point I don't know who's still sticking by me or not.

And also big thanks to Kristen for letting me steal a part of her fic. :D

…..

:: Chapter 33 – Safe, Part III ::

By early evening, the asshole that made our life even more miserable than it already was had finally been caught. We were able to go home, which we were all more than happy about. In the car ride back to our homes, no one said a word. Gibbs came back to give us the news, and with that, we were gone. McGee unwillingly took the front seat, and the rest of us rode in the back. Gibbs dropped me and Tony off at our house, and then I guess he left Abby at her house and McGee at his. It was anyone's guess as to what happened after Tony and I left, but I didn't doubt that they talked about me – if they talked at all.

At home, the atmosphere was still and tranquil, which, quite frankly, surprised me. I thought that once we got hone, Tony would transform into this ridiculously overprotective, smothering kind of person, but that was not how it was. We didn't discuss much of anything, but he was not trying to smother me.

After a warm, almost scolding hot shower (not that I mentioned that to Tony), I was off to bed. But before this, I was asked – almost forced – to eat something. A muffin and a cup of coffee was not enough, apparently. And I agreed, but I was just not hungry. Still, to please Tony, and to get him off my back about that, I ate something.

"Everything tastes horrible," I whined.

"I know," Tony sighed. "But you still have to eat something."

I looked down at my plate only to be met with a measly-looking sandwich with white bread and too much ham. I could tell from a mile away that this was a Tony-made sandwich; the extra ham gave it all away. And it was as though he could read my mind in that moment because he went ahead and said, "You know, I may not be as good a cook as you, but I can make a sandwich. It's not that bad."

I looked back at him. "It is not that, Tony," I told him. "I am sure it's good." Even though looking at it was making me nauseous. "I just…"

"You're not hungry," he finished for me. "I know. But you have to eat."

So I ate so that he would shut up. When we got to bed not too long after that, I wondered what would happen the next day. Would anything change between me and Abby, or me and McGee? Would they look at me differently? Would Ducky or Palmer already know? It made me anxious to just think about it, and as a result, I had another mostly sleepless night. Tony slipped in bed next to me and wrapped his arms protectively around my waist. I could swear he did it to prevent me from going anywhere, but even if I wanted to, I was too tired.

After all the lights were shut off, we were submerged into darkness and an almost eerie silence.

"Ziva?" Tony's voice gently cut through the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Can I tell you something?"

I held my breath for a moment. What could he possibly tell me that he could not just blurt out to begin with? He was not usually one to hold back comments about anything, so in my mind, if he had to hold it back, it was probably not good. I turned a little to look back at him, but his face gave away nothing. Whatever it was, it was probably not good.

"What?" I asked, but he seemed to catch on to the inadvertent worry in my voice. A few seconds passed before he answered me, and by then I was already facing him completely. I hated what seemed like an excruciatingly long wait, but in reality was actually just a few seconds.

"I'm glad you're alive," he said, but I had no idea how to answer to that. I could not say the same for myself; I could hardly say anything at the moment. "I love you."

The only thing I could say in return was that I loved him back, because I would have been lying if I told him that I was glad that I was alive, too.

* * *

><p>The next morning was slow and a little chilly. I asked Tony to take a shower with me, because I was up to the point where I hardly trusted myself to be alone anywhere. I knew that if I was left alone, I would start to think and remember things, and I would become tempted yet again to do something stupid. Of course, this was not a problem for Tony, who would not ever turn down an opportunity to bathe with me; but I could tell that this was not the only reason he got in with me. He, too, probably did not trust me as much as I did not trust myself to be alone.<p>

And that was fine by me. I deserved that at the least anyway.

When it came to picking out what to wear, there was a dilemma in that. I stood right in front of my closet for more than just a few minutes. Part of me was merely staring at all the clothes that hung there – the other half being Tony's clothes – and the other part of me was not paying attention.

From behind me, Tony slipped his finger right underneath where the hook of my bra was, pulled it back and let it go, jostling me out of my thoughts. I turned around to face him.

"You know," he said, "I've never seen you take so long to pick something to wear."

"We have not been living together for that long, Tony," I pointed out.

"Still. You don't take so long. I know what you can wear."

"What?"

He stepped forward and dug through the closet. He picked out a light blue-colored pair of jeans that I had not worn for a while along with a pink, long-sleeved blouse that I could have sworn had long been rotting in the depths of hell. He picked out a light jacket after that. It was not that cold after all, and he had an idea for something we could do.

"Why don't we walk to work?" he said.

I stared at him. "Walk to work?" I repeated. "Why?"

"You walked to work once," he answered with a shrug. "Don't you want to walk to work with me?"

"But the car is so much faster, Tony."

He stared at me. "I'm not going to beg, Ziva – if you don't want to do it, that's fine, but it would be nice if you walked to work with me," he said. "It'll take us a little bit longer, but we have more time to just walk and talk."

"Okay," I relented – sort of. "I will walk to work with you."

"Well, don't sound so excited, sweetheart. Really, Ziva, if you don't want to, it's okay. We can do it another time."

"It's fine, Tony," I insisted. "We can do it today."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

The first few moments after we left the house were fine. Aside from the fact that we probably should have had breakfast, things were okay. The weather was neither too cold, nor was it too hot, so it was pleasant to walk in. It was still peaceful and quiet around the neighborhood, with some of the neighbors doing nothing but walking their dogs or leaving for work. Tony and I probably looked like we were on our way to a college campus with our backpacks behind us.

We walked down the sidewalk, merely enjoying each other's company in the nice, cool weather. And then, of course, I began to _think_. For some reason, I kept thinking that at the end of the sidewalk, we would come across a lake. It was silly, and it was stupid, I know, but I could not stop thinking that a random lake would just appear there. I scolded myself in my head for thinking of something so completely stupid, but the only thing I did was grab on to Tony's hand for some kind of comfort.

From the corner of my eye, I saw him look down at our now-joined hands, and then he stopped walking. "What?" he asked like he already knew something was wrong.

"What?" I said back.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong what?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes – no – I don't know."

"Ziva…"

"I am fine, Tony. I am just getting kind of anxious."

"Kind of anxious?" He looked down at my hand in his, and I thought to myself that perhaps I should not have taken his hand so quickly, almost forcefully. This could have been avoided. Maybe. Either way, we probably would not be having this conversation.

"Tony," I went ahead and said, not really caring if he was about to say something else, "let's keep walking. Please? I am fine."

To my honest surprise, he did not pull his hand away, like I was almost sure he was going to do. Instead, I slipped my fingers through his, and thankfully, we continued to walk. He asked me if I wanted to play a game. I did not, but I asked him what game he had in mind.

"I say the name of a country, and you have to say the name of a country that begins with the last letter of the country I mentioned. Got it?"

_Oh. My. God,_ I thought.

"I'll start. Lebanon."

"Nicaragua."

"Australia."

"Argentina."

He thought for a moment. "Afghanistan."

"Netherlands."

"Sweden."

And it went on like that. Granted, I thought it was a childish and dumb game, but it made time fly by. It kept my mind off my anxiety and everything else for the rest of the time we spent walking to work. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I told myself that I had to do this again sometime. The only time I'd ever walked to work before, I was alone, but with Tony, it so much fun. By the time we got to work, he had nearly had me in stitches, which was not only weird to me, but also to McGee, who had a grin on his face when we got there.

"Well, this is a nice sight," he said.

"What is, McSunshine?" Tony asked.

"_This,_" McGee said as though it was most obvious thing in the universe. "You two smiling and laughing. It's nice."

Tony said something to him, but I did not catch it. I was silenced by a box that had been sitting on my desk. It was a lot larger than the last box I had received, but I still had that fear that something bad would be inside it. What if I opened it and saw a dismembered family member inside it? I realized that sounded far-fetched, but anything was possible.

"McGee," I said cautiously, but when he looked up at me, he didn't seem fazed by the fact that there was a freaking box on my desk, "what is this?"

Before he could get a word in, Tony spoke up. "I wouldn't open that if I were you. You know what happened last time."

"And if I throw it away, it is probably going to come back anyway!" I said.

McGee stood up from his desk and came between us. "Like I was about to say," he said as he threw a glance at me first and then at Tony, "there's nothing to worry about, Ziva. That's from Abby."

I was confused. "For me?"

"Yep."

I looked over at Tony, who looked just as confused as I did. My face silently asked him if he thought I should open it anyway. He gave me a slight shrug, but he wasn't sure either. For all both of us knew, Abby could have put something in there to spit out confetti or just have something pop out and give me a damn heart attack.

McGee's impatient stance and body language had me thinking that he was holding back an inappropriate comment. He looked like he wanted to say something like, "Open it; it won't kill you!" But I was skeptical, because I was not sure what could be in there. It was anybody's guess – well, except McGee's, because I was pretty sure he already knew what was inside.

I carefully took the knife from my pocket and opened the box. My heart was beating quickly in anticipation – and nervousness. When I opened it, it was not at all what I was expecting. I would have first expected flames from hell before what I saw.

Tony peeked a little over my shoulder to take a look – and then furrowed his brows in confusion. "What is that?" he said.

As far as our eyes could see – unless our minds were playing tricks on us – it looked like Bert. It was a hippo – that much was obvious, but it looked so different.

"Bert?" I said out loud.

I think McGee was about to answer, but Abby filled in for him. I never heard her step into the bullpen.

"It's not Bert!" she said cheerily. Of course, she'd be cheery after everything that happened – unless she was faking it. "It's Bert's fraternal twin brother!" she went on. "I was going to name him Fred, but since he's yours, you can name him whatever you want."

The new hippo was almost identical to Bert. He had a darker shade of gray, a baby blue, spiky collar, and – the worst of all, in my opinion – button eyes. It reminded me of a movie that Tony and I once watched together for Halloween. It was a long time ago, but some of the characters had buttons for eyes, and it was creepy, to say the least.

"Umm, Abbs…?" Tony said uncertainly. "The hippo's kinda cute and all, but why are you giving Ziva a hippo?" If it was for the reason I had in mind, he was probably thinking that there were better things to give to someone to make that person feel better. Or maybe a hippo with button-eyes was not exactly soothing.

"See, here's the thing," she began. "Bert and I go way back. He's special to me, and believe it or not, he's actually helped me through lots of tough times in my life. I know none of us are exactly going through the best of times right now, but… I just thought that maybe Ziva could use a cute little stuffed animal to make her feel better."

I felt like all the attention was on me, and in a way, it was. I was not comfortable with it. McGee was looking at me, wondering what I was going to say next; Tony looked like he was not sure what to make of this, and Abby was looking at me, waiting for some kind of answer. I forced a smile and said, "Thank you, Abby. I appreciate it."

"What're you gonna name it?" she asked after she gave me a tight hug. "I don't suppose you want to go with Fred."

"I… don't know," I said. "I will think about it."

"You'll let me know?"

"You will be the first to know."

"Okay!" She left the hippo on my desk and took the box with her when she left the bullpen.

McGee returned to his desk; I returned to mine, and it was then that Tony called him to ask him something.

"What, Tony?" McGee sighed. He probably guessed it was going to be a stupid question.

"Okay," Tony began to say, and McGee rolled his eyes, "I'm not complaining or anything, and I don't mean to be rude, but–"

McGee interrupted him, "You're upset that Ziva got something and you didn't. Get over it, DiNozzo."

"No, _idiot,_" Tony scoffed. "I was going to say – and don't take this in a bad way, but – where did you find this twisted version of Bert? Did you, like, buy it at the Tim Burton store or something?"

He rolled his eyes again at him. "First of all, DiNozzo, it was Abby's idea to get Ziva something. She was the one who bought it all. So if you want to know, you can ask her. Second, nobody really cares what you have to say about it. The only thing that matters is that Ziva likes it, which she does. Right, Ziva?"

"Yes," I replied tightly.

His face fell. "Oh, God. You don't like it, do you?" He did not even give me an opportunity to speak. "I knew I should have talked Abby out of buying you this. I should have known you wouldn't like it. But I don't wanna tell Abby and make her feel bad. But at the same time, I don't want you to keep something that you don't like. But I have to tell–"

"_McGee,_" I interrupted him, feeling a little annoyed at how he just jumped to a conclusion. "I like it."

"Oh." He paused for a moment, not really expecting that. "You sure? Because if you don't, I'll just let Abby know…."

"Don't," I interrupted again. Like Abby needed that anyway. "I like it, McGee. Really."

He threw a glance at Tony and then back at me. "Okay," he said skeptically. "If you say so." Tony was discreetly looking at me like he did not believe me, but he went ahead and sat down at his desk.

I had no idea where to put Bert's twisted twin. I did not want to set him down on the ground and make it look like I was trying to get rid of him or something. But I could not stare at his creepy button eyes for very long either. After mentally debating with myself for a while, I finally set him down on the floor underneath my desk. No one could see him; I wouldn't see him, but it would not look like I did not care about it.

The rest of the day went by slowly. Abby and McGee went out for lunch, but Gibbs was still nowhere to be seen. I did not believe that he was running late. He was just being mysterious and unpredictable again, but I did not know where he was. That left me and Tony alone in the bullpen, excluding the people that were around in other parts of the squad room.

Tony wheeled himself in his chair all the way over to my desk. "Wanna go out to lunch?"

Going out to lunch was not exactly something I got particularly excited about. On one occasion, we witnessed someone being killed. On another, we had to jump out of a moving car to survive. It was anyone's guess what could happen next with just the two of us.

"I am not hungry," I told him.

"I could always ask Abby and McGee to bring us something."

I shook my head. "If you want something to eat, then go get it."

"But I'd have to walk."

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"And I don't want to leave you."

"Tony."

"I know," he said. "You're not technically alone. I know. But still. I don't want to leave you."

And who could blame him? I had no way of telling what random thought would make its way into my head and cause me to act on impulse. It was perfectly natural what he was feeling, although the not-so-logically logical side of me could not help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the lack of alone time I would get. On the other hand, I was kind of afraid of what would happen if he left my side. I could not decide. Ever.

"I'll just ask McGee to bring back something. I'm starving."

He reached for his phone inside his pocket and dialed McGee's number. I could hear him a little over the phone; he sounded a little worked up, but that did not faze Tony. On the contrary, he quite enjoyed hearing McGee sound so irritated, which made me chuckle a little.

By the time Gibbs finally showed up – not having given an explanation as to where he was, obviously – it was about an hour and a half after noon. For some reason, I figured he would be mad, particularly at me. I had no idea why, really; and I could have been wrong, but I was not sure. He did not look mad either. Maybe I was being paranoid, but he did get frustrated with me a lot sometimes.

"Ziva," he said to me, and everyone looked up at him. "Go to Abby's lab."

It was around five in the afternoon now; in a few hours we would be going home, after such a slow day, but I was wondering what could be so bad that Gibbs had to tell me to go down to Abby's lab. Tony glanced at me and I back at him, but we were clueless. McGee was perhaps even more lost than the two of us. He gave Tony a look as if to ask what was happening, but he merely shrugged at him.

"Why?" I wanted to know.

"That wasn't a request, Ziva," he said seriously. "I'll let you know when you can come back up. Go. Now."

I hung back for a second or two before I got up and stepped out of the bullpen. I could feel my face go red in embarrassment as I left, feeling everyone's eyes on me. Once the elevator landed, I stepped out into Abby's lab. I was kind of surprised to see that she was surprised to see me. Whatever Gibbs had to tell Tony and McGee was not planned. That scared me. Who knew what he was talking to them about? It was probably about me.

"Hi, Ziva! What brings you down to my lab?"

"Gibbs told me to come here."

"Gibbs told you to come here?"

"That is what I said."

"Why'd he tell you that? We haven't caught a case. Wait a minute, are you making this up? Are you just saying that so you could spend more time with me?" She grinned, but I just stared at her.

"Guess not," she muttered. "So did Gibbs tell you why he wanted you to come over here?"

"No. He just said to come down here and that he would call me once I could go back upstairs."

Abby's face was momentarily void of emotion. "Oh," she said dully. "I see." She was thinking the same thing as me. She was thinking that the chances of Gibbs talking about me to Tony and McGee were very high. But she did not want to mention what they were most likely addressing. So instead, she asked me if I wanted to sit down at her desk. I did. She said she could use some company, but then her phone rang, and she stepped into another room to answer it.

Leaving me alone at her desk.

It was not her brightest idea, and if Tony found out she stepped out of my sight, he would probably berate her for it. No, I did not stab myself or anything like that, although sometimes I think I should have. And anyway, Gibbs was done talking to McGee and Tony fairly quickly, so I showed myself out the door. I did not dare ask anyone what they had been talking about once I reached the bullpen.

And then, by the time it became eight o' clock, Gibbs suddenly said, "DiNozzo, McGee, go home."

For some crazy reason, I assumed that he meant me as well. When I got up to get my stuff, he stopped me and said, "I didn't say you, Ziva."

Everyone paused.

"Boss?" Tony said.

"Ziva's staying with me tonight."

I glanced at Tony, who looked back at me and then at Gibbs. "She doesn't even have extra clothes."

"I do."

"Women's?"

"They're just clothes."

"Boss–"

Gibbs gave him a death glare that immediately quieted him. This time, McGee and I were stuck in the middle. Tony looked defeated once again. He just said, "Can I least talk to her before I go?" to which he got no answer to and he took as a yes.

He took me aside to the break room, but before he could get a word out, I said, "Did you know that Gibbs was going to do that?"

"No," he said. "I had no idea."

"Well, what did he talk to you about when he sent me to Abby's lab?"

"He asked if we knew why your coat was found by the lake."

My throat felt dry, but I should have known it was coming. I just thought it was too soon. "What did you say?" I was almost afraid to ask.

"I didn't tell him anything," he said. "I told him that if he really wanted to know, he should ask you."

Well, I appreciated the privacy. Tony had a reputation for a lot of things, and lack of respecting one's privacy was one of them. But he was right. Should I have to explain to Gibbs what happened, there was no one that could explain it better than I could.

"What if–" I started to say, but Tony cut me off.

"No."

"You don't even know what I was about to ask."

"I don't need to know," he said. "You'll be fine with Gibbs. The worst he could do is… make you help him build his boat."

"I do not need to be taken care of."

"Ziva, you'll be fine."

"Gibbs can be scary."

"And since when are you scared of Gibbs?" he said with a grin.

"I am not scared of Gibbs. I just think that sometimes he's not in the best of moods."

"Don't you mean all the time?" he joked. I did not answer him. He put his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I almost resisted, mostly because I felt a little irritated, but I liked being in his embrace. "Don't stress," he said, which really was kind of redundant because it was far too late. "You'll be fine. If you need anything, you can call me. I know you'll be fine with Gibbs, but just letting you know. Call me if you need anything, and I'll be there as soon as I can."

He leaned down and kissed me on the lips. I returned the kiss, albeit a little half-heartedly (which was not his fault). He said, "I should go now before my ride leaves me."

"Your ride?" I asked.

"McGee is my ride tonight. He doesn't know it yet, but he is. There is no way in hell I'm going to walk home at this time."

Pretty soon, Tony was gone, and I was making my way out of the building with Gibbs right by my side.

"I really appreciate you letting me know about this ahead of time, Gibbs," I said sarcastically as we made our way to his car.

He only smirked, which irritated me. Sometimes he knew just how to _really_ annoy a person. We got inside the car, and within a few minutes we were at his house. We had ridden in silence the entire way here, and to top it all off, he did not bother to turn his radio on. I was afraid to make any little sound that would just abruptly cut through the silence and draw some rather unnecessary attention to myself.

When we arrived inside the house, Gibbs said, "Make yourself at home."

I turned around and looked at him. He had just shut the front door behind him without locking it. I never did understand why he never locked his door; that was his problem. But there was something about the way he said that that made me think that I was going to be dealing with a different kind of Gibbs tonight. Unless it was absolutely necessary, I was not going to be dealing with the head-slapping, coffee-drinking man who put up a wall for his emotions. This Gibbs seemed so much more different and gentle, and he had not even done anything yet.

I set my bag down on the floor. I took off my jacket and set it down on the couch, along with Bert's twisted twin that Gibbs never asked about. After a moment or two of hesitation, I sat down, too.

Gibbs was making himself some coffee in the kitchen. He offered me something, but I said no. "There's a reason I have you over here, Ziva," he said.

"Hmm."

"There's also a reason I didn't tell you about this beforehand."

_No kidding,_ I thought.

"You and I need to talk. I know that if I'd asked you before, you wouldn't have said okay to this."

He was probably right about that. I just thought that on a Friday night I could be having sex with Tony instead of being here. Seriously.

Gibbs continued talking. I felt like this was a mission and he was just giving me an introduction to everything. This is why _this, _and this is why _that,_ and if this, then that, and we need to talk because something happened that you're not telling me about, and…. It reminded me of when I was younger and my father would start talking and not shut up for a while. It sounded somewhat like that. What happened next was not supposed to happen. It just _happened_.

I said, "Yes, okay, I _get it,_ Abba!" and then realized what I had said. It took a second or two for it to come to that, but Gibbs was already looking at me, some amusement in his face but mostly curiosity to see how I would handle this.

And then of course, I made it worse. "I… I did not mean to say that…"

Gibbs just smirked and sat down on the couch beside me. I almost did not realize that I was sitting very stiff in the corner of the couch. He looked at me, but did not say anything. So I tried to "fix" things, but it always ended up sounding worse when I put it into words.

"That was an accident, Gibbs," I said, feeling so embarrassed right now. My cheeks must have been red, and if they were, I hoped it was not too noticeable. "It just slipped out. I just thought about my father and when I was younger and when he would–"

"It's okay, Ziva," he interrupted.

I stopped talking. He went on.

"It's been a long time since anyone has called me Dad. It doesn't even matter what language. It's been too long. And you are my daughter, Ziver – you and Abbs. But you're my youngest. If you want to call me Dad, I'm okay with that. Really."

I was still thinking about what I had said. I certainly did not plan on calling my boss Dad tonight, but I didn't _not_ mean it. Still, it slipped out, and it was an accident, but it was kind of nice at the same time. It had been too long since I had spoken to my real father. It was nice to have someone newly take that title.

"This stays between the two of us?"

He shrugged. "If you want it to."

_For now._ "Okay," I said, "Abba." But it sounded bittersweet in my mouth, and it would take some time to get used to saying that.

The conversation would have probably moved elsewhere, but I told him I needed a shower and that I needed some time to myself. We headed upstairs where he brought me a towel and some new clothes to change into. He had some of Shannon's old underwear for me to use, which I did not want to use, but ultimately had no choice but to use them. They were comfortable and they fit perfectly, but it was creepy as hell. Anything of hers was probably gold and sacred and untouchable in Gibbs's eyes, but there was that teeny tiny little fact that I was wearing a dead woman's underwear.

And so there I was intruding again.

* * *

><p>I took forever in the shower.<p>

In fact, I did not even shower. I took a bath and a very long one at that. Gibbs did not knock on the door at all and ask why I was taking so long, the way Tony would have done. I wondered what he was doing. He was probably in his basement, building his boat. Or maybe just in his basement doing nothing. Or the very least likely, sleeping.

I stepped out of the tub and got dressed. I felt like a Gibbs almost immediately. I was wearing an old NIS shirt of his and one of Shannon's old underwear (never again), along with one of her old around-the-house shorts. I felt so weird and out of place, and I wished I could have had someone drop off some of my clothes for me to wear.

As I dried myself off, I thought about what Tony must have been doing. If McGee gave him a ride home, what happened next? Did they stop somewhere to eat? Was Abby with them? Was he feeling lonely? I probably sounded controlling, but I was just curious. Perhaps if Gibbs had let me know I would be staying with him, I might not have sounded like a controlling and overprotective girlfriend inside my head.

Gibbs was, of course, in the basement. No surprise there. I slowly made my way down the wooden steps that inevitably creaked under my weight.

"'Bout time you came out," he said when he saw me coming in, but he did not look at me.

"Thanks for coming to check up on me," I retorted.

He finally shifted his gaze onto me. "What did you want me to say?" he asked calmly.

I shrugged. "_'What's taking you so long?'_"

"Why?"

"Because I could have killed myself and you would not even know."

Silence fell between us, but as quickly as it came, it left as well. There was an unreadable look in his eyes now. It was like he was expecting me to say something off, but not exactly that. I could tell I set him off. I did not mean to, really; I was just a little irritated at his apparent lack of concern. I should not have been. It was dumb.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he said, and I realized that he knew. He just knew. I would still have to explain, but he knew.

"Hypothetically speaking," I said.

His voice started to rise. "There was _nothing_ hypothetical about that."

"Gibbs, I am telling you–"

"And I'm telling you that I know you better than that, Ziva!" he shouted. I was honestly stunned into silence. This was him on a regular basis, but tonight, I was not expecting to see Gibbs, my boss. I was expecting to see Gibbs, my father, and right now, I did not think I was seeing that. Or maybe I was and just could not see it at the moment.

I stood there, waiting to see if he would say something else – and he did. He lowered his voice again, but it still held authority. "I want you to tell me why I found your coat by the lake at the safe house. Don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about. I want to know everything that happened."

There was no way out of this now. If I told him what I tried to do, he would ask why I did it. I would have to tell him about the camera, even if I wanted to keep that a secret. It was supposed to be kept hidden from everyone, but somehow everyone found out about it.

So I told him everything – right from the beginning up to the most recent thing that happened. I was shocked that he was not as mad as I imagined he would be. I even mentioned Tali and the video of her death, along with how I told Tony that I killed Ari. Abby and McGee did not know about that, but with the way things were going, I would not be surprised if it just happened to accidently slip out.

We were sitting on the floor, right up against the uncomfortable staircase when Gibbs said, "Ziva – if this has been going on for a while, why didn't you come to me?"

I shrugged without meeting his gaze.

"You went to DiNozzo, and you even told Abby and McGee, but you didn't tell me."

"I had no other choice with Abby and McGee. They would not leave me alone that day," I said defensively. I really was not supposed to have told anyone, including Tony, anything, but everyone ended up being aware anyway.

"Still," he said. "I didn't know about it. If something is troubling you, I have to know what it is. You have to tell me. This not only interferes with your work, but it also leaves everyone concerned about you. You think no one's noticed a change in your behavior for a while now? Everyone's noticed, Ziva. _Everyone._"

When he said everyone, did he really mean everyone? Ducky and Palmer could have noticed, but what about Vance? And people like the janitors and those who worked in other teams and other floors? I did not say that.

"Why don't you show it to me?"

"The camera?"

"Yeah. Do you have it with you?"

"Yes…"

"Why?" he asked.

"I don't know. I always have it with me."

"Why?" he asked again.

"I don't know!" I said, a little more exasperated this time. "It wouldn't be fair to dump this on someone else, would it!"

"Why can't you leave it at your house or have DiNozzo take it for the night? You don't have to have it with you all the time."

I sighed, but it sounded more like a scoff. "Forget it. You don't understand."

He was calm, so very calm. "Then help me to understand, Ziver."

I tried to explain to the best of my ability. "It's not fair to anyone if I just dump everything on them. This is something that is happening to _me_ – not you, not Tony, not Abby, or McGee. Just me. This does not concern anyone else."

Gibbs shook his head. "Nope," he said. "If it's affecting you, it's affecting your family. And we're your family, Ziva."

"Some family," I muttered. "It doesn't feel that way."

"And why is that?" he asked.

"Because," I said, "you are always angry at me for everything, McGee is scared of me, like I am always out to get him or bash his head in with a bat or something, and Abby's never liked me anyway."

"Is that what you think?" he asked me, giving me a hard, but never harsh, glare. "Do you think we're not a family because sometimes I get angry at you and punish you? Or because Abby sometimes does something you don't like?" Before I could even think of an answer, he continued. "Yeah, I do get angry at you sometimes, Ziva, and when I do, it's because you lose your focus or you break my rules – like you did with DiNozzo. You broke my rules, so you suffer the consequences. That doesn't mean we're any less of a family."

"Then what is Abby's excuse?" I shot back. "She treats me like shit sometimes then apologizes, and then she does it all over again."

"Well, why don't you tell me when she does do something to you that you don't like?"

"It's not like you are going to do something about it. She is your favorite."

He shook his head again. "That's not true, Ziva. I don't have a favorite." He put his arms around me and pulled me closer to him until I was resting on him. "I love all of you differently, but the same. I have to treat you all differently, because you're all different, but that doesn't mean I have a favorite." But, I thought, he'll go back to treating Abby like the favorite on Monday. If he were to make a promise about that, he would be able to keep it.

I said nothing as he continued, just tried to take everything in. "Take DiNozzo and McGee for instance. I constantly have to be on DiNozzo's ass, 'cause he can be lazy at times or become distracted and not do his work. McGee, on the other hand, is a little more consistent and on his feet. That doesn't mean that I prefer DiNozzo because he's been there longer, or McGee because he's more likely to get his work done than DiNozzo. Well, the same thing goes for you and Abby. You're both my daughters, but I have to treat you differently. Abby is always hyper and talks a lot and is very sensitive. And you are more calm and collected, and sometimes I have a hard time getting you to speak. But you're both my girls."

"Gibbs," I said, glad that we were not making any eye contact, "I like being your daughter."

"And I'm honored to be able to call myself your father," he said, then added, "my daughter." He kissed the top of my head, and that is all I remember until a few hours later.

(-/-)

When I woke up again at three in the morning, marveling at the fact that I actually slept for a while, I felt weird. I awoke on the floor of the basement by the staircase. Gibbs was not by my side, and it was dim inside the basement. I had no idea where he was, but a part of me was beginning to feel irritated that he left me on the floor. I got up and went to look for him. He was in the kitchen, sitting at the counter drinking coffee, and he did not seem surprised to see me.

"Ziver, it's three in the morning," he said, somehow knowing that I was aware of the time.

"Why do you do that?" I snapped. "Why do you _always_ do that?"

"Do what, Ziver?" he asked calmly.

"You talk to me; we have a good conversation, and then you leave me alone."

He took a sip of his coffee. "You think I left you alone?"

"I would not have been on the floor of your basement by myself if you had not."

He stood up and walked past me. This angered me even more, since I thought he was ignoring me. I followed him, but he only went up to the couch. He picked up Bert's twisted twin and held it out for me to take.

"What are you doing?"

"You're tired," he said.

"You did not answer my question."

He was still as patient as ever. "You're tired and you need to sleep." He practically waved the weird hippo in my face. "You might want this. I know it's not exactly eye-candy, but since Abbs gave it to you maybe you want to–"

I snatched it away from him and flung it right back at his face. He caught the hippo in time before it hit the floor, but he was still not fazed by this – although I was not paying much attention to that at the time. "I do not want to sleep!" I argued, but my mere being betrayed that statement. "I want to know why you keep leaving me alone!"

He said nothing. He looked deep in thought, but I was so angry that I did not care.

"You are such a bastard," I retorted, and went to walk away, but he stopped me. There was no use fighting with him, even though I tried. Eventually, I gave up, and I simply collapsed onto him and cried until I fell asleep once again.

In the morning, Gibbs was not the one to wake me up. I was not even on the couch. When I woke up, I was in his guestroom with two blankets on me – never mind that it was not that cold inside the house – and the face peering at me was Tony. He seemed quite content to see me again, but I was even happier to see him. I got out of bed, despite the heavy weariness I felt that was telling me to go right back to sleep and gave him a hug and a kiss. To him, it felt like an Abby hug. To me, nobody could hug like Abby could.

"Had a good night?" he asked.

I shrugged a little. "You could say that."

He chuckled. "Ready to go home?"

"Oh, I am _so_ ready to go home now."

When I had everything ready – and by everything I meant my bag and the weird hippo, but I was able to take a shower and get into new clothes that Tony thankfully brought for me – Tony went ahead to the car. Before I even stepped out of the house, Gibbs stopped me, but before he said anything, I filled in for him. "Thank you for letting me stay here overnight. I think I needed that more than I've cared to realize." There were still more things to address, more things we needed to talk about. But for the time being, yesterday's adventure would have to suffice.

He smirked a little. "I was going to say – does DiNozzo know you snore like crazy sometimes?"

"Very funny," I said playfully. "But really – thank you. Abba," I added, hoping it sounded less foreign to me today. Not quite, but I hoped to get there.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into a hug. "Of course, Ziver." I felt his lips against my forehead before I left. "You're my daughter."

I would have to teach him how to say that in Hebrew some time.


	34. Good Mourning

Thank you everyone for your patience and reviews! This chapter is for Bridge (burningbridges97) because it's her birthday today. I like this chapter, so I hope you like it, too. Happy birthday, girl. :D

:: Chapter 34 – Good Mourning ::

This was what much of the week was like:

Gibbs was barking orders as usual; Tony was being his normal loving, caring, and concerned self; and McGee and Abby were concerned, but I could tell I was everywhere for them. What they talked about exactly I could not tell – but I'll take a wild guess and say it had to do with my suicide attempt. If everyone was as aware of my behavioral change as Gibbs had said, then they were not doing an A plus job at it. (Unless occasional staring counted for something.) I did not exactly come to work to find my desk covered in "get well" balloons or cards or anything.

On the day I came home after spending the night at Gibbs's house, I told Tony much of what happened, omitting a few details here and there. I told him that I wore some of Shannon's old clothing, including her underwear.

His reaction was spot on. "You wore Shannon's underwear?" he said in disbelief. "Like Shannon's _actual_ undies? What was that like?"

"Like wearing regular underwear," I said. "Just… creepy."

"And he actually _let_ you wear them?" He was both fascinated and disgusted.

"Yeah," I answered. "I needed to wear something."

"That's just… I don't even think he's ever let _Abby_ wear something of Shannon's. I'm honestly surprised he's ever let anyone even seen it."

It must have been that father-daughter thing.

(-/-)

For the first time since it happened, I mustered up enough courage to ask Tony to watch Tali's death video with me. It was not so much that I was scared to ask; but asking something like this was not exactly as easy as _do re mi_. He gave me a look like I was crazy, which I expected. Anyone would have done the same in his position. He was trying to think of the right words to say. I patiently waited. And waited. And waited. And thought that if I had to wait any longer I was going to scream.

"Tony."

"Ziva," he interrupted me, "why do you want to watch that video again?"

Why did I? I honestly had no idea. I could not have said that it was because I wanted to – because if I had not minded it, I would not have freaked out over it in the first place. So why exactly _did_ I want to?

"I… don't know," I admitted. "I guess I feel like I have to watch it again."

"You don't," he said quickly. "You don't have to watch anything. I don't know who's making you feel like you have to watch it, but you don't."

"No one. I want to." That did not come out right.

Tony raised an eyebrow at me. "What do you mean you want to?"

"Well, not that I want to. I just… I don't know. I want to, but I don't want to. I just…" Who knew anymore?

"Okay," he relented. "Alright. I'll watch it with you if you want."

"No."

"You don't then?"

"Well, yes."

"Ziva."

I waved it off like it was nothing, though I probably already looked like an even bigger idiot. "Sorry. Let's just… watch it."

The hesitation was about as thick as an atmosphere between us, but I was unsure which one of us was more than the other. It was nighttime, by the way, thus adding to the ever-present sense of eeriness that lingered in the house. After all the lights in the living room and everywhere else were off, we went to our room and slipped into the covers in bed. To my surprise (although everything was a surprise lately), there was nothing new in the camera. No new pictures. No other videos. Nothing. Just Tali's death video.

I could feel Tony inch closer to me, until the heat coming from his body coated practically every inch of me. In the midst of this, before I played the video, I thought to myself that maybe I was seeking some kind of closure. This was the closest thing I would ever get to seeing how my sister died – as crazy and unbelievable and outrageous as it sounded. The first time was a shocker, amplified by the sheer realization that two of my co-workers were witnessing something so personal and unexpected with me. This time, I knew what was coming, and although I continued to dread it with every fiber in my body, I felt that somehow, in some way, I owed this to my sister.

I just _had_ to do it. And at least Tony had the decency to back me up.

My thumb was right over the play button when I was stopped and asked, "Are you sure you really want to do this?"

"I'm sure."

He was quiet for a moment after that, like he was still not sure why in the universe I would want to watch that godforsaken video again. He only said, "Okay," and I took that as my cue to start the video. I did, and I was immediately swept away and tossed back ten years in time. I was no longer in my bedroom with Tony by my side; I was now in what strongly resembled a war zone, the earth thick and musty beneath me, chaos reigning all around me. There were people shouting in Hebrew in just about every corner I cast a glance. I knew what was going to happen – oh, did I _know_ – but I had it set in my mind that I could change the outcome, that I _had to_ change the outcome.

I thought of my sister, and there she was, in all her stupidity, in all her glory, wearing her heart on her sleeve, trying to save everyone in the room before even giving the idea of hauling her ass out of there a mere thought. She was about as real as I remember her. Her naturally curly hair was wild and everywhere, her eyes dark with fear but with a glimmer of hope that she could actually go through with this; concern was scribbled all over her face, could not be more obvious, her body language quick, shaking, desperate, stopping for no one, stopping for everyone.

I wondered if she could see me. I wondered what would happen if I reached out to touch her. Would she feel cold? Would her skin be as warm as her heated face? Would she feel it? Would she recognize the Ziva that stood there ten years after her death? I thought about warning her, about telling her what I knew would evidently come, but as I was about to, everything before me disappeared. The bomb did not go off, but everyone disappeared, and I was met with an almost deafening silence back in my room with Tony by my side.

"Okay. That's enough."

It took me a moment to switch lifetimes. I heard a _clank _sound when something collided with the frame of our bed. I looked to the side to be met with a Kleenex tissue in my face. I took it, but I did not use it. Tony took it away from me and wiped at me eyes and down my cheeks. I certainly was not expecting anything that had happened.

"I've seen enough," he said. "_You've_ seen enough. We're not watching that again."

"Did you just throw something underneath the bed?"

"Camera," he said. "That way you can't get it in the middle of the night." Right. Unless I got out of bed and reached for it underneath the bed.

It got quiet between us. I could not find anything else to say. Part of me was glad he shut the camera off, but another part of me wanted to continue watching. I moved over to my side of the bed and wrapped myself underneath the covers. He did the same in his own side. It was still too quiet, none of us daring, or perhaps not wanting, to say something.

I did what I'd sometimes do to make me feel better, secure. I reached for his hand and slipped my fingers through his. It made me feel much better. It did not make me better completely, but that was better than feeling like shit.

A century passed between us before one of us spoke again, and it was Tony who did.

"Ziva, can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"What's the earliest memory you have of your sister?"

Umm, what? "My earliest memory?"

"Yeah," he said. "What's the furthest back you can remember about your sister?"

"Like things we did, or…?"

"Anything, really."

I searched my mind for an answer to that, and I was pretty sure that as far back as I could go was her birth. "Well… what about when she was born?"

"You remember when she was born?"

"Well, I don't mean the moment. I mean I remember being there after she was born. She was a fat baby. And I was so jealous."

Tony chuckled, "I was a fat baby, too, if you can believe that."

"Surprise there," I said with a little laugh.

He nudged me lightly on the side, but we continued to laugh quietly. I moved up closer to him until I felt his body heat on me. I felt safer than before, and I think he knew that I was thinking that. When I looked up at him, he was staring up at the ceiling, not that there was anything interesting about it. "Tony, can I tell you something about Tali?"

He looked back at me, his face asking me if I even had to ask that question. "Of course," he said.

I sighed and began, "One of her dreams was to be on stage. You cannot imagine the countless amount of times she would drive everyone at home insane with her loud singing – aside from the catching disgusting lizards. She was not bad at it, but she liked to sing loud and off-key sometimes just to bother everyone."

"You two had lots of things in common then," Tony mused out loud. "I would have liked to have met her."

"Remember that time I was undercover in Morocco and you were on a ship?"

He rolled his eyes and scoffed as if it literally pained him to even give it a thought. "Don't remind me. I hate that Vance broke us up at one point."

Yeah, I was not too keen on thinking about that time, either. "I had to go undercover as a singer at one point, and… all I could think of was Tali. It just made me think of her and how she would have loved to have been in my position if it got her to perform in front of people. She loved the opera and classical music and performing and all that." I told him something I rarely told anyone because it was too painful to think about sometimes. "Before she died, not too long before, she asked me to slow dance with her. She wanted to teach me how to do it, because I did not know how, and for some weird reason, she felt I should know how to. I know that probably sounds weird, two sisters dancing together…"

I felt Tony shake his head. "Not at all," he said quietly.

I went on. "I can't remember what musical piece we danced to," I said. "But I do remember it was classical music. She was always into that. It is one of my favorite and last memories of her." A tear or two may or may not have crept up on me (okay, it did), but I made it clear to myself that I did not want to cry. I had already done way too much of that already, and enough was enough. But I just could not help it. The topic of my sister and her dreams and one of my last memories of her was not a light one. In several ways, talking about her felt like someone was cutting me open with a knife. Seldom did it make me feel just a little better – and that was when I talked about it to Tony. Otherwise, it felt like a dam of emotions burst open and happened to take me with it.

I turned to look at him square in the eyes. He looked back at me, but did not say anything. "Look," I began, "talking about Tali is not something I always like to do."

"I know," he interrupted me. "And I'm honored that you choose to share these memories with me when you don't have to."

"Tony, I really do appreciate you listening when I tell you. I cannot just tell anyone about this. It is not exactly the easiest thing in the world to open up about your dead sibling."

"I know," he said again. "It's not easy to open up about someone you cared so much about. Believe me, I know. I may not have had a brother or a sister so that I could share some cool memories with you, but I know what that feeling is like."

My free hand reached up to caress his cheek, but when I did, he drew his own hand and placed it over mine and held it in place. "But you have me," I told him. "And I am your partner."

"Soul mate," he added, and I knew where he was going with this.

"Best friend," I finished. It was something he had told me a while back when I was having another one of my constant rough nights.

"I love you times a million," he said.

"I love you infinity," I shot back.

With his hand, he took my hand that rested on his cheek, brought it to his lips and kissed my fingertips lightly. Nothing else was said; nothing else needed to be said. The quiet, soothing sound of each other's breathing lulled the other to sleep.

* * *

><p>To say I panicked when I woke up the next morning was putting things mildly. I was freaked out. Tony was not by my side, or anywhere near me. In fact, he was not even in the room. It probably would have been logical to think that he was maybe in the kitchen or the bathroom or somewhere else, but given the way things had been going lately – completely unpredictable – I could not risk taking a chance.<p>

I was so wrapped up in my own alarm that I did not immediately notice that there was music playing. Wait, what? Music? Now I was just confused. Why was there music playing? And why did it sound so familiar?

I tossed the covers aside and carefully stepped outside of the room. It was early, around six in the morning. As per usual, I was dead tired, but I knew I would not be able to find sleep again even if I tried. Tony was out in the living room still in his nightwear, and I was still too groggy to be able to make out anything.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said, oddly cheerfully. He lowered down the volume.

The heavy feeling of familiarity still clung on to me. It was classical music, but the piece I did not recognize. "What are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep well last night," he admitted, which made two of us. I could not sleep well ever. "So I just got to thinking… about what you told me about Tali and her dream and your last dance with her and all that." He raised the volume back up again, and realization dawned on me completely right then. I recognized the musical piece as _O Mio Babbino Caro_, forever etched into my mind as the song that accompanied the last dance I ever had with my sister. But Tony could not have possibly known what song it was if not even _I_ could remember it the night before. How in the world did he know? Or was it just a wild – a _very wild_ – guess?

I was rooted to my spot. I dared not blink, could not blink, could not do anything besides stare.

"I know these past few weeks have been tough," he said. "And I know Tali's been on your mind a lot, too. I just thought maybe you could take a morning and… spend it with her. And with me," he added, almost as if he did want to be left out, a little jokingly. But after this… how could it ever even cross my mind to leave him out?

I did not know what to say, but something was said. As usual, it was something stupid.

"But Tony, I…"

He raised an eyebrow and waited for me to continue. "You…?"

"I just woke up. I haven't even showered."

He shrugged. "Me neither," he said. "Who cares? I don't."

My nose started to get a familiar ticklish feeling. I knew what that meant, but I did everything to keep myself and my voice steady.

"Ziva?" Tony said. My eyes went back up to meet his gaze. "Why don't you teach me what Tali taught you?" He was quiet now, as quiet as he could be under the sound of the music. It seemed as though he was keeping quiet so as to not break something. What it was, I did not know. But I had to look past that.

It had been years, I told myself as I agreed. Years since I did this with her. I feared being rusty, but everything came to me once I began – wanted or unwanted. It came regardless. I approached him. I placed my hand on his shoulder and led his arm around just a few inches above my waist. Our free hands joined and fingers intertwined. A sudden memory came to me, one I had stored all the way in the back of my mind, suddenly feeling too shy to ask.

"What is it?" Tony asked.

"I just remembered something Tali asked me that time we danced."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's not important," I lied.

"I'm sure it's important," he said. "What is it?"

I stopped for a moment, but the music continued, stopping for no one, not one single memory. It suddenly sounded so silly, but something pushed me to say it anyway. "Is it okay if I step on your feet?"

He chuckled lightly. "Well, it's a good think you're not Bigfoot."

He had no shoes on, making the whole thing just a little more difficult, but not impossible. I stepped on his feet, and it was like being with Tali all over again. I was taller than her, and yet she insisted that I stepped on her feet. I never got to ask why she wanted me to do it, and I will obviously never know either. If I thought about it too much, it would irritate me, so for the time being, I'd have to enjoy the time I was spending with her.

I put my head down on his shoulder, her shoulder. She was leading the way, like she did that one time, and I followed her. Her scent as I always remembered it hung heavily in the air around us. She squeezed my hand a few times, but I closed my eyes and held on tight to the memory of her. I feared opening them and not seeing her anymore, not feeling her against me, of forgetting what it was like to be in her embrace. I held on to everything as much as I could by keeping my eyes closed. I would have liked to have opened my eyes, but I knew everything would disappear if I did and that she would leave me again if I did. This was a moment between us once again and no one else, and even if just for a minute more, I wanted to grasp on to that.

I think she was about to speak, but my right foot suddenly slid off Tony's foot, momentarily stopping us. Everything I had been holding on to was gone.

"Sorry," I said.

"It's okay."

I looked down at the floor with sudden interest. I thought about telling him what I was thinking, but then decided against it. There was no easy way to put the fact that I was having a nice dance with my sister and that it was then rudely interrupted into words. But Tony just knew everything. He lifted my chin up so that my eyes could meet his. I did not have to even speak a word. My teary eyes spoke loud and clear to him.

"It's okay," he said again. "This is your time with her. Don't let anything take that away from you right now."

I nodded, but before I bit down on my bottom lip hard enough for it to draw blood, I said, "Thank you, Tony. Really." There was a pause before I added, "I love you times a million."

"I love you infinity," he said back as my head found its way back to his shoulder. It no longer became Tali's shoulder, and the air around us continued to smell the way it always smelled. I did not close my eyes; I merely enjoyed the time I was spending with Tony.

There was no use chasing after something that was not there. Tali was already gone, her absence triggered by a simple interruption, with a seemingly permanent effect. She, however, continued to linger inside my mind, like she always did.

"_So why exactly do I have to learn how to do this dance?" Before she could even answer me, I went on, "I have no use for this, tateleh."_

_Her smirk was a little smug at first, but then she laughed it off. Even with an unshakeable feeling that something was going to happen before anything actually happened, she still managed to find the optimistic side of things. We stood in our positions, me being taller than her, and she wrinkled her nose, found my eyes, and said, "You will see, Zivaleh. One day you will meet that special someone, and you will have to dance with him – whoever he is."_


	35. And Hera

My apologies to everyone that I've been a lazy shit and haven't updated in nearly two months. Hopefully, you'll all still stick by me as we begin to near... well, a little beyond the halfway point now. And hopefully, this long chapter makes up for the wait. To those who are still wondering about the camera and the mystery behind it, I promise I'll get there. **Just bear with me for now as we get stuff out of the way.** Also I'm going to stop saying that I'll try to take less than a month to update because that's never the case. So please leave a review or something if you're still around.

…..

:: Chapter 35 – And Hera ::

On a particular week, we caught a case that we thought would be simple. A petty officer and a lieutenant were murdered and we had to go to investigate. Gibbs sent me and McGee to talk to a potential suspect.

When we were leaving the bullpen, Tony and McGee exchanged these glances between each other that could have come off as eye sex to anyone, but was something different – and more than just a glance between each other. They probably thought I did not notice, but then again, they were being so obvious, that who would not have noticed?

In the car, I asked McGee about it. He had the keys in the ignition when I asked, almost squirming as though I was going to punish him like a little boy. "What was that look?" I asked.

"What look?" he asked.

"That look you gave Tony."

"What look I gave Tony?"

I reached out and pulled on his ear. To him, it felt like a million needles jabbing at every inch of his body, but then again, he thought I was the only person who could inflict that kind of pain without _inflicting_ that kind of pain.

"Oww, oww, oww! Okay!" he gave in. I let his ear go and he straightened out on his seat. "I'll tell you, but I don't know if you want to hear the full story for this…" He changed his mind about that when I started reaching for his ear again. "Okay, fine," he said with a little flinch. "I'll tell you."

I waited for him to begin.

"You know when you stayed over at Gibbs's house?"

Why did he have to make it seem like Gibbs and I had a very girly sleepover? It was not like I _asked_ to stay overnight at his house, much less know about it. "Of course."

"Well, Abby and I decided to invite DiNozzo out to eat, and, well… he wasn't in the best of moods."

"What do you mean he wasn't in the best of moods?" And why did I not know Tony went out with McGee and Abby until now?

McGee sighed. "With everything that's happened lately, he kind of just needed someone to talk to. Of course, it's not like he would actually admit that, so Abby and I took him out to eat."

"And?"

"And…" He paused for a moment as if he was trying to form a believable excuse in his mind. "He's worried about you. We're all worried about you," he added. "He's scared to leave you alone because who knows if you might… you know."

"Might what?" I asked a little sharply.

"Don't make me say it, Ziva. You know what."

I could understand his concern. Even I did not trust myself to be alone anywhere. But I was not all too crazy about having to hear about _this_ at a time like now.

"So what else happened?" I asked him.

He thought about it. Maybe he was pretending to remember what happened to avoid telling me something that I might not have wanted to hear. "Abby's been wondering if you really liked the hippo she gave you."

"Liar."

"She has," he said in a defensive tone. "She'll hardly sleep. She wants to know for sure that you liked the hippo."

"I liked it, McGee. Must you continue dragging this out?"

"I'm not."

"I do not believe that Abby loses sleep over that." I stopped asking about that night because knowing a nervous McGee, I was not bound to get answers from him. At all. I made a mental note to ask Tony when we got home tonight. The rest of the ride was done in silence. We probably would have spoken if the tension and awkwardness had not been weighing heavily in the air.

We arrived at the house of the potential suspect, but everything after that was mostly a blur. McGee and I stepped out of the car, and the first thing we heard was a ruckus going on from the house next door. I looked over at McGee. We were thinking the same thing, for the most part. The yelling, a man and a woman's voice, was becoming far too much to ignore.

"Go check it out," he said to me. "I'll go on ahead here."

I stepped out into the front yard of the noisy people – but there were no noisy people in sight. I stepped up to the front porch, hoping to see if I could catch a glimpse of the people having a screaming match through the screen door, but I saw no one, just continued to hear the yelling. A perfect distraction it was from whatever force of nature, or the planet, or the universe was that was also causing my life to go downhill. I only remember a loud explosion coming from the suspect's house next door.

(-/-)

"Hey, Ziva, focus."

I'd been watching Gibbs talk to a doctor for who-knew-how-long now, waiting to see if there would be any change in his facial expressions. His face was impassive for the most part, and I would love to say that that was a good thing, but Gibbs's face was almost always stoic-looking, so in reality, it told me nothing. Abby and Tony were trying to get my attention, but my mind was elsewhere. None of us wanted to, let alone actually dared to, interrupt Gibbs while he was talking to the doctor, and I'm sure they were getting impatient trying to get answers out of me.

But the problem was that I had no answers. I was almost as clueless as they were.

I felt a hand grab my shoulder and shake me a little. It was Abby's hand. I knew I had to keep my eyes on Gibbs in case I missed something. Tony said something, and then Abby's hand was gone from my shoulder. I did not catch what Tony said, but I did hear a little bit of the conversation after that.

"Tony," Abby whined in a way that I just knew she was near tears, "Ziva's the one that knows what happened, and she's not saying anything."

"I don't care," he snapped. "Stop trying to force an answer out of her. She'll talk when she's ready."

I did not catch anything after that. Gibbs had suddenly moved away from my eyesight, although my eyes remained glued to the wall. I could hear Gibbs's voice when he came to us, but I was not listening to a word he was saying. In the back of my mind, I knew Abby must have been ticked with me and that McGee would have been disappointed to know that whatever Gibbs was saying about him, I was not even listening. He should have expected that from me, in any case. I did almost get everyone killed in a moving car anyway, so why expect anything less from me?

I felt a hand on my cheek, but the hand was not the familiar gentleness I'd grown to recognize. And no wonder – it was Gibbs. He was sitting on my right-hand side. Tony was on my other side, but Abby was not there. The question was splattered on my face, along with confusion, and although Gibbs knew this, he did not say anything about her.

"Ziver," he said quietly, "listen to me. I need for you to focus right now. On me. Okay?"

I nodded.

"I need you to tell me what happened before the explosion," he went on. I felt a comforting hand on my back, but it was as though Gibbs felt it, too, because the next thing I knew, he said, "DiNozzo. Go to McGee's room."

Tony began to argue, "But, Boss…"

"Tony," Gibbs interrupted patiently, "just go. Let me talk to Ziva for a few minutes."

Tony complied and left, not that he was given a choice anyway. After he disappeared through the doors, Gibbs turned to me and said, "McGee's alright. He has a few cuts and bruises, but he's fine. They want to keep him overnight just to be safe, but he'll live."

It was a big explosion I heard. And McGee must have been standing close enough to get severely injured. There was no way he could get away with just some cuts and bruises. I tried to think about everything I know I had seen after I heard the explosion, but nothing was coming to me, disturbingly so.

"I know this is always scary," Gibbs continued, "but I need you to tell me what you know."

Again, I went back in my mind to try and replay what had happened. The scariest thing was that I had almost no recollection of what happened. I tried to think, to search my mind for something that had happened less than five hours ago, and nothing came to me. It was as though everything had been literally wiped away from my memory. I only remembered that my heart dropped after hearing the loud boom, and then I remembered nothing more. Now that I thought about it, I did not even remember how I got here. If I rode in an ambulance, I don't know. If I rode with someone else, I don't know that either.

"Ziva?" Gibbs was trying to pull my attention back to him.

I realized I had been looking away from him. There was patience and understanding in his face, but I was sure that would change. I expected nothing less than disappointment when I told him that I could literally not remember anything.

"Tell me what happened."

"I-I don't know."

He almost gave me a raised-eyebrow, are-you-serious-right-now look. Almost.

"I don't know, Abba," I said, and it almost rolled off my tongue easily, not that I was paying attention to that small detail at the moment. "I don't remember."

"Do you remember anything?"

He did not look disappointed, not right away. But he was, and I knew it. It made me feel yet again as though we could have been close to solving something, but it depended on me, and I became the most useless thing on the planet and screwed everything up. I could not remember anything, anything at all, to help him out, and I failed. To put it in simple, direct words: I failed.

"No."

"It's fine, Ziva." The elephant in the room begged to differ. _Nothing_ was okay; nothing was _fine_. "You should go home, rest, and when something comes to you, you let me know."

"I want to see McGee first," I told him.

"Okay."

We quietly stood up, and in that same way, we rode the elevator up to the floor where McGee's room was in. I did not bother to look or ask in what floor his room was stationed in. I was dreading what was coming. I knew Abby would come and ask Gibbs what I told him, and he would have to tell her that I could not remember anything, and she would be disappointed. Tony would be disappointed too, but he would have better sense than to let it show as bluntly as Abby probably would.

Abby wore her disappointment like a cloak, as I knew she would. She and Gibbs gave each other a glance that required no words. The look on her face did not need any words either. The one person who could help could not help. Who else would not have felt what she felt?

I went inside McGee's room with hesitation. How would he react when he saw me? How would he react overall? Abby and Tony gave no complaints about him, but…. What ifs were going through my mind like crazy, even though when I stepped inside, he looked perfectly okay. He was smiling, almost.

I hung back a little by the door, trying to see if I could overhear anything said just outside the room. McGee thought I was avoiding him.

"You can come closer, Ziva," he said. "I don't have leprosy."

I stepped closer, letting him believe what he wanted to believe. When I stepped closer to him, I could see the full extent of the explosion's aftermath – and it was hardly anything. He had a few scratches on his face, and there were probably some first-degree burns on his arms, but not many. He looked fine. I could not understand how he could be like that when the boom I heard was loud enough to shake all of DC.

"You know," he began to say, "I'm fine. I feel fine. I don't know why I can't go home tonight."

I was trying to think of something to say, but nothing was coming to me. I looked like a nervous idiot.

"Ziva?" McGee sounded concerned now. I looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I managed.

"You don't look fine." He gave me no time to answer. "Sit." He patted the little bit of space next to him on the bed.

I sat down awkwardly. Everything was getting more and more awkward by the second. I wanted to run out of the room and forget about him, forget about Abby and the look on her face, forget my life ever happened. Instead, I let chaos race though my mind and sat almost statue-like on the edge of the hospital bed, feeling like if I moved, I would break something.

"Do you know what happened?" he asked me. I should have seen that one coming.

"Besides the obvious?"

"After that."

"I don't remember."

"I don't remember either."

He was probably unconscious during said time that neither one of us apparently remembered about.

"Look," he went on, "this is the weirdest thing I've ever gone through. After I heard the explosion, everything is mostly a blur. It was… loud. I remember feeling like my whole body was on fire, but I couldn't do anything about it. And then… I don't remember what happened. Now I'm here, and I'm fine. I've got a few scratches only, I'm kind of sore, but I'm okay. That doesn't make sense." He looked dead serious when he said, "I have a feeling I should be almost dead right now."

It was a good thing Abby was not there to hear that. That reminded me of something that made my heart skip a beat. I was lost in my own thoughts, only to have McGee interrupt them again.

"Ziva? You're being really quiet right now. What's wrong?"

What wasn't wrong? Everything was wrong about this.

"McGee... I don't remember anything," I admitted. "It is as if my memory has been partially erased. After I heard the explosion, I really don't remember anything else that happened after that."

"This is really weird. I should be more banged up – way more banged up. But I'm fine. I feel fine. I don't get it."

Our eyes met, and I suddenly had a scary thought. I looked away, but before I did, I caught a glimpse of his facial expression, and for a moment, we both thought the exact same thing. I wanted to be sure, but I did not want to ask. I tried to stand up and do anything besides sit still and feel confined, but McGee grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

"What did you just think of?" he asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him, but he saw right through me.

"Oh, you know what I mean, Ziva. You just made this face like you had a sudden thought."

"So what?" I shot back. "I am always thinking. I have a lot on my mind."

"Yeah, well, this time it was different." A moment of silence edged its way between us. "You're not gonna tell me?"

"Nothing to tell."

"I'll find out, Ziva. I will."

"M'kay."

I was surprised to know that he would be staying alone overnight in the hospital. He told me that Abby had insisted on her staying with him, but he had to talk her out of it. She was not convinced he was fully okay. After all, he'd said, that time when Abby was in the hospital, she didn't let him stay with her overnight, so this was a bit of an unplanned payback.

Still, I thought someone should have stayed with him, no matter how much he insisted he would be fine. I would have volunteered if I could have, but that would have been plain weird. The thoughts that this was all my fault and that I let this happen were coming back to me. I knew I had to leave the room before I became an inconsolable mess.

Before I left, McGee grabbed my arm again and stopped me and said, "Ziva. I don't know what's going on in your head right now, but whatever it is, I just want to tell you that this is not your fault." I did not protest, and that probably made him think that he was right. And he was, but I did not want to show that to him. "You couldn't have known," he went on. "I didn't know. It's not your fault, okay?"

I nodded. I could not bring myself to believe it.

"I'll be okay by myself here. Tell Abby she has nothing to worry about. I feel fine. I'm okay."

"That's what they all say," I muttered.

He looked right at me, but I was not looking back at him. With that, he let me go, "It's what _you_ always say."

(-/-)

Abby was not going to make it through the night alone.

That was the first thing that came to my mind once we exited the hospital. I would have relayed McGee's message to her, but she had not spoken to me once I stepped out of his room. She left with Gibbs, who also said nothing to me when we left. I thought she was probably mad at me for not telling her what she thought I knew. I knew nothing. I remembered nothing. It was awful. Even Tony became silent in the car ride home, something I was not really expecting.

When we got home, I could feel the ambience of the house heavier than usual. I wondered if Tony felt it because it would be pretty hard to miss. It was normally weird around here, but today was just different. But I said nothing. There were way too many things going around in my mind for me to stop and tell Tony about the house, of all things I could say.

Tony turned the TV on in the living room. Was he ignoring me? I acted like it did not bother me and headed straight for our bedroom. It was strangely cold. What was even happening?

The house felt weird, everyone was seemingly ignoring me or mad at me, and I could not remember what happened before, despite the fact that it happened not too long ago, that nightmares would come, inevitably so, should sleep even find me that night.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, observed my surroundings. I sat there for a while, or at least it felt like a while, until Tony came in.

"Should we get take-out tonight?"

I blinked, let that sink in for a moment. Of all things to say, _should we get take-out_ was the number one thing? I shrugged. "Don't care." And why should I? Eating was not exactly my preferred hobby lately.

"Or would you prefer pizza?"

"Tony, I don't care." That came out a little harsher than I intended.

There was a pause before he sat down next to me. "You know, McGee has never looked better. There are a few scratches and all, but aside from that, he looks great. I've seen him look worse in lesser situations, so to speak. He's still in one piece, so–"

"That's not funny."

He gave me that look again, that look that asked me if I was okay, that made me question my own sanity, if I even had any left. In short, the look almost everyone gave me lately, as though I were crazy. He was about to ask me what I meant, but he only got less than half of that out before I interrupted and answered him myself.

"I didn't want to mention anything to McGee, but… it just came to me."

"What did?" he wanted to know.

"The whole explosion thing, it just… it reminds me of Tali and the video. She didn't end up in one piece. Far from it actually."

He hesitated for a moment, once again searching his mind for the appropriate thing to say. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to poke fun at McGee. I'm glad he's okay. It could have been worse. He could've been dead. I'm just surprised that he looks the way he does. I'd expect him to be worse. Much, _much_ worse."

Yet another mystery to keep me awake at night, trying to wrap my small mind around it. I heard the boom of the explosion, and I remember how the ground shook from its impact. McGee should not have been alive. I should have remembered things; I should not have blocked everything out, even if I had not done that on purpose. I should have been able to remember things clearly, should have been helping out instead of sitting on the sideline, watching from a distance as someone else tried to put the puzzle pieces that I should have been able to piece little by little together.

Tony tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Is there anything you remember about what happened there?"

I shook my head, the feeling of uselessness returning again. It would not go away until everyone stopped asking me that question, and even then, it would probably still stay.

"No," I said. "It's as if everything has literally been wiped away from my memory." He looked like he was taking what I just said into consideration. "I cannot remember anything. At all. Nothing."

It was as if it never happened. I had zero recollection. It was scary, but I was too busy being frustrated with my stupid self to let that part sink in – yet.

Tony did not know what to say. He was glaring at the ground as if he was in deep thought.

"You believe me, right?" I asked him.

"Are you really asking me this?" He did not wait for me to answer him, as he took my hand in his. "Of course I believe you." And with everything that had been happening lately, how could he honestly not? I just needed to be sure. Sometimes it felt like it was only me against the world – and that the world was winning.

(-/-)

I felt like my food was staring right back at me. It looked disgusting and the whole no-appetite thing was not really helping. With my fork, I tossed my food around my plate, trying to somehow make the food seem like there was less with each toss.

Tony was up to his third plate of Chinese food. Three bites later, I was not very good at making it seem like I ate much.

"Do you know what the distance between the Earth and the sun is?" Tony said.

"No."

"About ninety-three million miles," he answered. "I learned that from _Who Wants to be a Millionaire_ once."

"Great."

There was a brief moment of silence before he came up with something entertaining and rather absurd at the same time. "In Greek mythology, Zeus was married to Hera, and–" And, yeah I know about this, "she was just like this jealous bitch who would punish Zeus's girlfriends instead of him. He liked to sleep around a lot. Could you imagine McGee being Zeus and Abby being Hera?"

He was serious? My face asked him that question.

"Like imagine McGee being the ruler of the world, the god all of the gods, and Abby being this jealous wife who tortures all his girlfriends?"

I had to admit that the whole Abby-Hera thing was not that hard to imagine. She was usually nice to people, but she could also be the biggest bitch ever – and sometimes to people she cared about and were her friends. McGee as Zeus was honestly laughable. And Tony let it be known.

"Well, I could never imagine McGee being Zeus. Ever. That's just not happening."

I tuned him out, thinking about McGee was in the hospital. Was he bored? Stupid question; of course he was bored. He was in a hospital. There was not much to do there. Did Abby go and stay with him despite the fact that he insisted he would be fine alone? Was he honestly blaming me for what happened? I did not blame him if he blamed me. I blamed me too. It was always my fault; I really did not know why no one else could see that.

Tony kind of stopped talking; but I had him tuned out anyway and just suddenly blurted something out before stopping to think if I should say it out loud and ruin more things.

"I am no help, am I?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him turn to me like I had just admitted to killing ten people. He was pretty shocked, which did not surprise me, because I was shocked that I even said that, too. I mean, I knew the answer, but sometimes I liked to form the words in my head before I said them – everything I did not just do.

"What?"

"I said I am no hel–"

"I heard what you said," he interrupted back. "What do you mean you're no help?"

I tossed a bit of rice to the other side of the plate. "Everyone wants to know what happened today. We want to be able to catch whoever put McGee in the hospital. And I can't help. I can't remember what happened or anything. I am no help at all."

"That's not true, Ziva. It's not like you see McGee or any one of us getting blown up every single day." Although people certainly liked to try to go to extreme lengths to see _that_ happen. "It's normal for you to block things out sometimes. Especially you if you've already seen way more than a person should."

But that was just it. I'd seen everything and anything anyone could think of. Should I not be used to it already? Should I not have remembered almost every single detail about today? I couldn't, and it was a problem, even if no one wanted to admit it.

"McGee must be so disappointed."

"No, he's not. McGee's fine, and that's what most important right now. He doesn't blame you. I don't blame you. Abby and Gibbs don't blame you. Only you blame yourself, and you shouldn't."

Still – Tali. It was eerie how some things could be so similar. The only most notable difference was that McGee was actually alive. There were a few other differences, but that was the most important one.

"You know, Ziva," Tony continued, "you don't give yourself enough credit sometimes. You're stronger than you think you are. You have to stop being so hard on yourself and beating yourself up for things that, for the most part, you don't have any control over. Even if you don't remember anything right now, something will come to you soon. It may not be today, or tomorrow, or the day after that, but it will come. And even if you don't remember anything, we'll catch that guy. We always do."

But it was so hard to believe anything positive when everything was so negative, and it was hard to see past my own uselessness. Our conversation was quickly cut short by a knock on the front door. Tony and I glanced at each other in surprise. We did not really get lots of visitors, if any, so who could have been knocking at our door?

_This is it,_ I thought dramatically. _This is _it_. There's probably a killer outside with a gun, just waiting to shoot us to death._ I had to bite back how strangely relaxing that idea sounded to me, to finally slip away from this rollercoaster called life and settle into completely nothingness…

"I wonder who's at the door."

I looked at Tony and said, "Answer it." Or don't. I didn't really care.

"Who could be visiting us at this time? Really."

"Just answer the door."

I said this to him, but we both went up to the door anyway. Whoever was on the other side was getting impatient and knocking to the point where it was getting annoying. I stood on one side, while Tony looked through the peephole. He looked both surprised and not amused at the same time. Unless McGee escaped from the hospital and was standing there in a hospital gown with no underwear on, I did not know who could have been standing there.

He answered both of our question when he whispered, "It's Abby."

So Hera was standing outside our door. Speak of the devil. "What is she doing?"

"I don't know. She looks kinda pissed. Or sad. I don't know. I can't really tell."

I said the words I had no idea if I would regret later on or not, "Let her in then."

Tony gave me a hesitating glance before he opened the door. I hung back on the side of the door so that I would not be the first one Abby saw when the door opened. Tony barely got to invite her in when he opened the door; she merely grumbled, "Took you long enough," and stepped past him.

We exchanged a glance.

"Why don't you come right in?" Tony said sarcastically.

"Sorry," Abby turned around to face us. "I just have a lot on my mind right now." Join the freaking club. "I can't stop thinking about Tim."

"You also have a lot in your hands," he pointed out. "What's going on?"

Abby looked down at the bags she was holding. "Don't kill me," was the first thing she said, which made me think she was going to say something that was going to make me want to reach out and strangle her, "but I was wondering if I could stay over tonight. I thought I could just sleep the night away, but I can't sleep. I don't want to be alone. Not while Tim is in the hospital. I just don't want to be alone at all. So how 'bout it?" She raised her eyebrows in hope that we were going to say yes and take her in like a puppy.

Tony looked at me, as though my answer would finalize everything. I shrugged at him, keeping any eye contact with Hera at a minimum. He took this as a yes (let's be honest, could we ever even say no to her?), and said, "Okay. Why not?"

"Thank you guys so much," she said with a sigh of relief, as if she was honestly not even expecting either one of us to let her stay over. "I appreciate it. I owe you."

Tony ignored that. "Do you want to eat something?"

Abby shrugged. "I guess."

"Have you eaten at all today, Abbs?"

"Just breakfast… with Tim. This morning."

"That's all you've eaten today then?"

Abby shrugged again. "Guess so."

"Well," Tony began, suppressing a sigh, "we have Chinese rice. Want some?"

"Okay."

I settled down on the couch and folded my legs underneath me as Tony served Abby some food. For someone who was presumably not so hungry (considering the circumstances and the effects it could have on a person, something I was unfortunately very familiar with), she sure devoured her food. And then she went for a second round. And a third. Until I was convinced she would ask Tony to go against her in a game of "how many plates of food can I eat before I finally throw up."

Tony seemed to have forgotten that I only took a few bites out of my plate and stopped eating – which was okay by me; I wasn't hungry. I was hardly ever hungry anymore. I was always too tired, but never hungry enough. It never worked out. I had a lingering feeling that if it wasn't for Tony, I would be slowly killing myself, and it was great. Admittedly horrible, admittedly great.

"Tim hasn't called you guys, right?"

I looked over at Abby, who was stuffing the last of the Chinese rice into her mouth. And then they had enough space in their stomach to go for dessert. _Dessert._ It disgusted me.

"No," Tony replied. "He called you?"

"Just once. He mostly just wanted to rest. I don't blame him. I'd want to sleep too if I'd been almost blown up to pieces."

That comment made my stomach churn, but I played it cool. Hera probably did not know that I still wore the guilt on me about as obvious as anything. She was probably dying to ask me if I remembered anything about today and itching to get an answer. But I still felt like this was my fault; in fact, I knew it was. I should have known. I could have stopped it ahead of time.

"Well, it's a good thing McGee's alright. That's all that matters," Tony said quietly, as if he could already tell that the comment bothered me, despite the amount of time he spent trying to convince me that nothing was my fault.

"Yeah," Hera agreed. She glanced over at me, and I wondered if she was expecting me to say that, yeah, I was glad McGee was okay, too and that it was the least I could hope for since I did get him into this mess. She quickly changed the subject, probably catching on to the mood that hung around. "Anyway, guys, I'm really glad you're letting me stay over. I didn't think I was going to make it through the night alone."

"No problem, Abbs. The more, the merrier," Tony joked half-heartedly.

"I can take the couch if you want. Hell, I'll sleep in the bathtub if you want me to."

"It's okay, Abbs. You and Ziva can take our room. I can take the couch. No big deal."

Why did he always dump me with her? I always ended up having to share a room with her, and quite frankly, it was kind of starting to get on my nerves. Abby knew how to push people's buttons, especially mine. I pretended not to notice her, even when she said, "But, Tony, what about your back?"

He snorted as if she was stupid for even asking such a thing. "You never actually believed the whole 'bad back' story, did you?"

(-/-)

Tony had fallen asleep in our room, despite the fact that he said he would take the couch. Abby said she would be taking a shower, but ended up staying in the bathroom longer than we thought she would. We had no idea what she was doing in there, even when the water was not running. Tony and I were in bed, talking, but he fell asleep, and when he did, I put our blanket over him and left to the living room. It was dark, though not pitch-black. The surface light from the microwave in the kitchen was on, but it was still impossible to see a lot until my eyes got kind of adjusted.

I sat back down on the couch, crossed my feet, and closed my eyes. My mind immediately went back to earlier today. My mind immediately created a scene of McGee getting blown up and how it could have gone, but I still could not remember. The more I dwelled on the fact that I could not remember what happened, the angrier I got with myself. I seriously could have done better than this. I could have helped if I only remembered something. I should have remembered something. Maybe I would not be such a disappointment to everyone.

Oh, who was I kidding? I would always be the disappointment, the one who was never good enough.

I buried my face in my hands, keeping my eyes shut. Albeit it was silent around the house for the most part, inside my head was chaos. Thoughts were running around at one-thousand miles per second, some slow enough for me to pick out and dwell on. At one point, I blocked out everything that was happening around me and only limited myself to everything that was going on inside my mind; I almost could have missed the light flop of the person who sat next to me on the couch.

"What are you saying?"

The chaos in my head stopped. I turned to look at Abby, who was now seated next to me, and waited for my eyes to adjust again to the darkness.

"You were saying something in Hebrew. I didn't understand what you were saying."

Was I? I did not notice. I shrugged lightly.

One thing I noticed was that her hair was damp, just towel-dried. She smelled like Tony's body wash, which was kind of weird, as I did not really want to smell _Tony _on _Abby_. She adjusted herself on the couch, and I pushed myself further into the arm of the couch.

"I'm guessing Tony fell asleep already," she went on. "So much for supposedly making that whole 'bad back' thing up. It's okay, though. I really don't mind sleeping on the couch. I like the couch. I'll even take the floor if I have to."

I felt terrible for wondering in my head if she would take the porch outside if she had to. There was a moment of silence before she spoke – again.

"You know, Ziva," she started, "you haven't said one word to me since I got here."

Really? I had not noticed that either. Well, I knew, but it was not something I was particularly focusing on.

"I haven't?"

What could I say? If I said something, she would get pissed. She would probably slap me (even if she promised she would never do it again). She would show her disappointment as obviously as she always did. She would do everything wrong and leave me to feel worse than I already did.

"No, you haven't. This is the first thing you've said to me since I came."

No, really, what could I even say? _I rather not talk to you, because then you'll answer me, and I'm going to feel like hurling you out the window._ I would just not say anything at all, then. "Sorry," I settled with. "I guess I had not noticed."

A small sigh emitted from her, but I could not tell if it was out of irritation or if she was tired or something else. I thought we were both just going to sit there in the dark, eventually fall asleep (if sleep visited me tonight, anyway), but she broke the silence again. In the midst of it all, I was grateful that I did not have to try to come up with something to say to break whatever tension was there.

"You know," she said, "today, I was feeling kind of upset." _No kidding, Abby._ "I mean, well, today has been a mixture of emotions with everything that's happened. It was just a normal day at work and everything, and then, before I knew it, Tim was in the hospital. I just died a little when I heard that. I hate hospitals. Nothing good comes out of them. And you could only expect the worst when you hear your boyfriend's in the hospital, you know?" She took a deep breath as I wondered where she was going to go with this. "And then I was told that you were there when it happened. Well, not along with McGee; otherwise, you'd be in the hospital, too. But I mean, you were with him. Somewhere. You were around, is what I mean. And when we got to the hospital and I saw you, but you weren't saying anything, I was just so upset. It was like I was so close, yet so far."

Well, Abby, you lucked out, because I don't remember anything. Nothing. Nada. It was the most frustrating thing ever, second to this one thing called _life_.

"I'm…" She paused for a moment. I continued to gaze at her until she went on. "I'm okay now. I thought I'd be angry for the rest of the night, but I'm not. Besides, you and Tony are letting me stay here for the night, which I'm thankful for." She dropped by completely unexpectedly. I didn't think we could just say no and slam the door on her face.

"Timmy is okay," she continued. "He's perfectly fine. I should be angry, I guess, because we don't know who did this, but he's okay. He's alive. That's all that matters right now."

Well, that did nothing to make me feel better. I just nodded at her, and I knew she could see me in the dark. I could see her reach out and before I could even react or flinch, she had her hand over mine. "Are you okay, Ziva?"

I answered quickly, quickly enough to make anyone think I was lying. "I am fine."

She sighed again and inched closer to me, since I did not. "No, you're not. You're never okay."

And I did not know if that word would ever be a part of my vocabulary again, or if I would ever even live to see it. No, I was not okay. I wished sometimes people would stop asking me that, especially if they already knew the answer to it. Okay was a long way from here, from me.

I heard myself say the words before I could even stop myself. "I am sorry, Abby. I wish I could help with what happened today."

"What are you sorry for?" she asked as though she was legitimately surprised that I even said that word.

"I should have been able to help," I answered, and I thought she understood. "I could not help. At all."

There was a somewhat sharp intake of breath from her, but I had no idea what that even meant. "Ziva, stop," she said. "I may have been nothing short of annoyed today, but you can't do everything. You can only do so much, no matter how invincible people make you out to be. Whoever is behind this – we'll find him. We have Gibbs. Gibbs will find anyone. Stop blaming this on yourself. You know it's not your fault."

I was not in the mood to argue, so I did not. But the mere mention of _it's not your fault_ made me want to gauge someone's eyes out. Why couldn't they just see what I saw?

Suddenly, Tony's voice startled the two of us.

"Hmm. A girl-on-girl party," he said. "How come I wasn't informed?"

"First of all," Abby began as she took a pillow from the couch and hurled it at him for the stupid comment. He caught it. "You fell asleep, dummy. And secondly, Ziva and I were just talking."

"'Course you were." He made his way over and motioned for me to scoot over so he could sit beside me. "You can still take the bed, Abbs. I can take the couch."

"No, Tony, take your own bed. I'm fine with the couch, honest. I like the couch anyway. It's comfortable."

Let's put it this way: nobody took the bed. I put my head down on Tony's shoulder, and Abby buried her face into my neck and linked her fingers through mine. It was odd at first. It was deathly quiet inside the house, and I was in a position I had not quite been in before. But even if just a glimmer, it made me feel like I was safe, like there was hope, and like I did not have to go through these things alone.


	36. Fingerprints, Part I

Congrats to me for taking over two months to update. I'm an asshole, I know. Sorry guys. Please find it in your heart to forgive me. Enjoy and umm, review please?

…..

:: Chapter 36 – Fingerprints, Part I ::

Gibbs didn't call, which was always something that scared me. I could never tell if him not calling us to ask where we were meant that his anger would catch up on us when we arrived at the office, or if he just didn't mind and made an effort to understand that sometimes things happened and we couldn't always be there on time.

Tony, Abby, and I got to work pretty late. For starters, we walked to work, and Abby insisted on getting McDonald's breakfast, so we stopped there and ate. But the majority of the time I was thinking about Gibbs and what he would say. I thought for sure that this time he was going to be fuming because McGee was in the freaking hospital and we should have been there, trying to find out who put him there, because everyone goes to the ends of the Earth to get me to believe it wasn't me who put him in the hospital.

So there Gibbs was when we got there, and Abby had long ditched us to go to her lab. He was sipping at his coffee, without a shadow of impatience driving him to so much as yell at us for being late. As if McGee wasn't in the hospital and we had to be doing everything we could to find this bastard – the one that apparently wasn't me.

"'Morning, boss," Tony said casually as he slipped into his desk and onto his chair as if the boss man would not notice us being late.

And Gibbs answered in a way to let us know we had been late – in case we'd already forgotten, "It's almost noon, DiNozzo."

"I… know."

Gibbs took another nonchalant sip of his coffee cup. "What took ya so long?"

Tony's gaze fell on me for a second, and I felt like he was asking me what he should say to him. "We walked to work."

There was a smirk, a small one. "Exercise. 'S good for the heart."

"Yeah… I love exercise."

"I can tell. The McDonald's bag you're holding is a good way to start on that habit."

Two sets of eyes landed on the bag around Tony's clenched fist. Was he trying to hide it? And did this mean we were in trouble? Because I still could not tell. That was the thing about Gibbs. When he didn't answer, one could never tell if that meant trouble, to which I, or anyone who's worked with him long enough, would say: good luck figuring it out. Silence could go one of two ways. The suspense came from awaiting which one.

"Uhh… Boss?"

"Yeah, DiNozzo?"

"Have you heard from McGee today?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Tony just shot this look at me, like he could not believe that Gibbs was not saying more than two words right now.

"And…?"

"He's going to be released from the hospital today."

"Boss–"

Gibbs looked up and made direct eye contact with Tony. "DiNozzo," he said, clearly irritated. "He's fine. He's going to be released soon. I'm gonna go with Abby to the hospital to pick him up."

Tony was about to say something, when I interrupted. "Speaking of Abby," I put in, "she just asked me if I can go down to her lab."

Gibbs's eyes shifted around the bullpen quickly, and then he fixated his gaze right at me. "Did she turn invisible to tell you that, David?"

Sarcasm. Like I could really use that right now.

I held up my phone for him to see, thinking it might help my lie. She never actually texted me, but I figured he was too busy being annoyed with Tony to notice what I was – or wasn't – doing. "She texted me."

"Fine," he muttered, waving me off. "Go."

I left the bullpen quickly, not even bothering to take the elevator down to her lab. When I got there, I was kind of relieved to see that she had her music on; granted, it was not as loud as she usually cranked it up, but it was still on. And she did not look too miserable either, which, really, made one of us.

"Hi, Ziva," she said. "What's up? Haven't seen you in forever."

Was it some sort of National Sarcasm Day or something? Because I was really not appreciating everyone's sarcasm today.

Nevertheless, I brushed it off and said, "I have to ask you something. And," I added, "if anyone asks, you called me down here, okay?"

"Ziva, what–"

I knew she was going to say something in protest. "Abby."

She nodded. "Okay. I called you in here. Now," she moved on, finally, "what did you want to ask me?"

I hesitated a little. "I need to ask you for a favor. And I would like to keep it on the download, too."

She stopped me and went to shut the door and lock it. Way to bring about some suspicion. "Down low," she said when she was done acting oh-so-natural.

"What?"

"Down low," she said again. "Not download. Keep it on the _down low._"

"Whatever. It's not top secret, what I'm about to ask you. But I don't really want everyone to hear about this."

"Is it bad? Illegal? You gonna ask me to hire a hitman for you?"

I almost rolled my eyes. "No." I reached into my coat and pulled out the camera. She seemed so terrified of the thing, as if I was about to pull out a gun and shoot her, or something like it. I almost thought she was going to back up into her computer dramatically, and in the same dramatic way, place a hand over her heart and gasp loudly. "I thought of something."

She eyed the yellow piece of plastic and asked, "What?"

"Fingerprints," I said. "Maybe there are another set of fingerprints here besides the obvious."

"The obvious?"

If I did not know any better, I would say she was almost shitting her pants. "Me. Tony. You. McGee. Gibbs. The obvious," I answered. "I wanted to give this to you to ask you if you could find other fingerprints on it. Maybe an unrecognizable name will come up and–"

"And it'll be the person who…"

"Yes. Maybe." I looked at her. "Can you do it?"

"Of course," she said. "This might take a while, though. Is that okay?"

"It's fine, Abby. Thank you." I handed her the camera, noticing that through the hesitance, she seemed like she was afraid to touch it. Maybe she thought that she would start to have my bad luck if she touched it or messed around with it.

I was almost completely out the door when she stopped me and said, "I'm hoping we'll catch this guy. Or woman. Whoever it is. I'll let you know whenever I have an answer."

I nodded a little. "Thank you, Abby."

* * *

><p>Gibbs and Abby had already left to the hospital. It was about one-thirty in the afternoon, and it was pouring outside, with a little bit of thunder. Ducky and Palmer were probably in autopsy, and Tony and I were still in the bullpen, getting caught up (trying, really) with paperwork.<p>

I retrieved a blank sheet of paper from the mess my desk was starting to become and folded it to make a paper airplane. I tossed it at Tony, but it flew above his head and crashed against the wall behind him. He looked up at me.

"Normally, I'd be throwing things at you, and you'd be doing work. Or pretending, at least," he said.

"I need to talk to you," I said.

"Okay. What's up?"

"Let's go somewhere else."

He looked around. "Where?"

Without seeming like I needed to think about it for a moment, I said, "Observation."

"Observation? Is it empty?"

I could only hope it was. We had more chances of getting walked in on in the bathroom or the break room than in observation. "Let's check."

I stood up first, and he followed behind as we made our way down to the hall where the observation room was. I felt like I was a high school kid, sneaking out of class to be somewhere private with her boyfriend. We checked the room once we got there, and I was relieved to see that it was empty. I sat down on the floor right against the wall underneath the window to Interrogation, and Tony sat down beside me.

"So what's up?" he asked me.

"I asked Abby to do me a favor," I started to say. "It's not a top secret thing, but I do not exactly want this to spread like wildfire either."

"Okay. What did you ask her?"

For some reason, I was finding it hard to say. It was like I found it so embarrassing and a little intimidating to have to say what could potentially bring an end to everything (and, well, when I thought of it like _that,_ it made me feel stupid for feeling hesitant to say it). But Tony, as always, could sense my hesitation and asked me if everything was okay. If he felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, he was doing a really good job at not letting it show.

"I asked her to scan the camera for fingerprints." Was it just me or did he just look more relaxed… and confused?

I didn't think he was expecting to hear that. "Fingerprints?"

What was honestly so hard to understand about that? Scanning it for fingerprints that weren't _ours_; I'd expect anyone to understand that right away.

"You know," I explained, "fingerprints that are not mine or yours."

"Unfamiliar fingerprints." It sounded more of a statement than a question.

"Yes."

He took a deep breath – as if this was stressing him out as much as it was stressing me out – and said, "Well, okay. Guess we'll have to wait and see what happens."

I knew what was going to happen. Anyone filled in on what was happening should have known what was going to happen. Abby would scan for fingerprints, and there would be an answer. It either matched, or it didn't. That was what would happen. If anything useful or helpful came out of it was a different story, and it was best not to continue thinking about that, because I was already over thinking things.

Tony sighed. "I feel like this is gonna take a while."

"Me, too." Just then, Tony's phone began to ring, so I said nothing else. He reached into his pocket with a roll of the eyes, wondering who would be calling him and interrupting us talking, and pulled his phone out. Naturally, it was Gibbs. He said he was in the hospital with Abby and McGee, who was doing well, and that he was going to give them a ride to McGee's house. He told us to go home and to be careful because it was still raining quite a lot.

"We get to go home early. Awesome," Tony almost squealed like a little girl.

He got up from the floor and helped me up as well. Just as we were heading out the door, two other agents were coming in. They were some people I had seen around a few times before; and they were eyeing us weirdly. It could have looked like Tony and I went in there for a quickie – and that's probably exactly what it looked liked, as well as what they were thinking.

Tony said out loud as we made our way out through the hallway, "Well, that was awkward. They probably thought we were doin' it in there."

"Maybe."

"I wonder if they were coming in to screw each other, too. Observation is a good place to do it."

Maybe it was, if it was late at night, or in the wee hours of the morning. But autopsy – albeit creepy – seemed like a much better place, if Ducky or Palmer weren't around. Speaking of which, I suggested to Tony that we ask Ducky or Palmer for a ride home, since we didn't have our cars. We went to autopsy, but we didn't find them. We had no idea where they went. They were not answering their phones either, to make things _so_ much easier on us.

That only left us with one option – walk home. In the rain.

We could have, however, called a taxi, used other forms of transportation, or even called Gibbs to come pick us up (that option was not our favorite, let alone very likely). But that was not going to happen. None of the options we had were going to happen. It just gave us an excuse to walk together in the rain – which I was not against at all, and neither was Tony.

We gathered our things and left the building. The rain could have been worse, but it was not the best weather either.

"It's just a little bit of rain," I commented. "A little rain never hurt anyone." Right?

"But a lot of it will kill ya," Tony said, then added, "_Jumanji_. Nice."

"_Ju_-what?"

"It's a movie. Robin Williams, Bonnie Hunt, Kirsten Dunst."

"Never heard of it."

"It's a good movie. If you're into that sort of stuff.

"Yeah, that's great, Tony. Now let's go before this rain gets worse."

We stood outside the doors of the headquarters, watching people pull out carefully in their cars, and in the pouring rain, others rushing to get in underneath the shade to escape the rain. We looked like two crazy people, waiting for everyone to leave our eyesight so we could go home and get soaked in the process.

"You know," Tony began to say as a married couple I had seen here and there before rushed to enter the building. They were already soaking wet, "It wouldn't have hurt Gibbs to offer us a ride home."

"Maybe we should ask," I said. Not that I wanted to bother him with questions. He had more important things to take care of anyway.

"Why bother? We're already here." Still an excuse to walk home together. "Besides, Gibbs is probably… I don't know… helping McGee bathe or something."

"Why would he do that?" I asked, confused.

Tony bit back a smirk. "Because McGee's weak and in pain. And he needs a shower, and someone has to help him do it."

"Tony, McGee is not weak – and he has Abby to help him with that."

"He may be weak from what happened yesterday," he said. "And having Abby bathe him… I don't think that's a good idea. He may be weak, but he's not weak for sex."

"Really? You speaking from experience, Tony?"

He gave me a ha-ha-very-funny look. "Think about it. Would McGee turn down sex?"

"How should I know?"

"He'll probably go for a quickie in the shower. And get out before Gibbs suspects anything."

The way he said that like he was so sure of it was disturbing at its best. But now was not the time to talk about McGee and Abby's possible quickie in the uncomfortable tight space that was the hospital shower. We had to walk home, and it was probably going to take an hour or longer in this rain.

A weird stare at our conversation later, we were ready to leave. We did not have umbrellas with us; we only had our coats.

"Ready to get wet?" Tony sent a glance and a smirk at me.

"Ready," I responded. I took my coat off and wrapped it around my back, pushing it up a little higher so that it could cover my head. Beside me, Tony did the same. I linked my arm with his, and on his count of three, we were off.

Walking home in the rain proved to be an adventure of its own. I had walked in the rain before, but never like that. We were splashed with water at least two times by passing cars, and we slipped on the ground a few times – which was funnier than it should have been. All in all, it took us way more than an hour to get home, and the rain had only ceased by a little even then.

"God, that was fun," Tony announced once we stepped inside the house. He was creating a puddle underneath his feet and around him the more he moved – and we were still standing close to the door. "We should do that again sometime."

I nodded. "We should." I did not think we were going to enjoy it – how wrong I was.

"Even though it took us a while to get home. You know what; next time, we'll walk home for a little while, and then we'll ask Gibbs for a ride. You know, if this ever happens again."

I hoped not. The reason behind us walking home is not exactly a happy one. Sure, we were given the afternoon off, and that was a good thing, but only because the day was slow and Gibbs had to go visit McGee and… the point was McGee. Just McGee. "Uh-huh," I said blankly.

Tony's shoes were squeaking with every step. My hair was stuck to my face, and I felt like I weighed about fifty pounds more.

"I need a shower," Tony turned to me. "Care to join?"

* * *

><p>The rest of the afternoon (a lot of it) was spent showering (there was just more to do than just shower), washing and drying our wet clothes – that were not only wet, but dirty, too – and mopping up the floor where it was wet. It almost turned into a cleaning afternoon. When we were through, Tony asked me if I wanted to watch a movie. I really did not, but I said yes anyway. What I could not stop thinking about was McGee.<p>

He was obviously already home, but how was he feeling? How was he doing? Could Tony really concentrate on a stupid movie when we had no idea what was up with McGee? Unless he was thinking about, but wasn't saying anything.

"If you put _Psycho_ on, I am not watching it."

"But _Psycho_ is a classic!"

"Or any of the James Bond movies. Or that stupid movie about beetles and juice."

"_Beetlejuice_. And it's not about beetles. Or juice."

"It was still a stupid movie."

"How would you know? We didn't even finish watching the movie."

I could feel my face flush a little. "I did not need to finish that movie to know it is dumb. The way those characters died was idiotic."

He gave me that smirk that told me he could see right through me. The kind of look that even if I looked away, I knew he was still reading through me. It was almost as if he was looking straight into my soul. And in a way, he kind of was.

"Yeah," he laughed at me, "idiotic character deaths."

We both knew what I was thinking, but he was thinking it, too. He was just not making it as obvious as I was, as I always made everything, at least lately. We never finished watching _Beetlejuice _because Tony could not stop thinking about what happened that day. It was also when I finally told him that I loved him, when I finally admitted it to myself. But I had already seen enough of the movie, even if we did not make it that far, to know I did not want to watch it. And even though she was dead, it reminded me of Carla and all of the shit she dragged along with her.

"Well," Tony shrugged, "any movie you want to watch then? And don't say _The Sound of Music._" I was not planning to, because I really was just not in any kind of mood to watch anything, not even remotely close to doing so. But I figured I could always just get lost in my thoughts, which also happened way too often lately.

"I was not going to," I told him. "You pick."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah, Tony, just pick a movie."

"Patience, my dear," he said as he began to make his way all-too-eagerly to his movie collection. "Picking a movie is like choosing what you're going to order at a restaurant. You want to make sure you have the right one. Takes time."

I flopped down on the couch, folded my legs underneath me. "Whatever."

He found a movie that made me think that if I watched it, I would somehow convince myself that I was really just slowly going insane, and that I would pretty soon end up in a mental hospital: _A Beautiful Mind_. Perfect.

He sat down on the couch next to me after he played the movie, but as the previews began to roll, he realized we needed popcorn. He said to keep the previews going until the popcorn was ready. And when it was done, he sat back down next to me with his bowl of popcorn. He offered some to me, but just as I was about to grab some, he pulled it out of my reach.

"You can only have some if you grab a handful," he said.

"Really? You'll let me have that much?" I answered sarcastically.

He scowled at me in the same playful way I was with him. "It's the American thing to do, Ziva." Before I could protest, he said, "Oh, you wanna see something cool?" He stuck his tongue out and reached for a single kernel. It immediately clung to his tongue, and he turned to me as though I could not see his childish antics from five inches away.

"Thee?" he said. "It sthicks to your tongue. Cool, ri'?"

I reached for a handful of popcorn anyway, although I was not craving any. "Who taught you how to do this very-American trick? The president?"

He looked at me, having already eaten the lone kernel on his tongue and grabbed a handful. "Well, somebody's very sassy tonight, isn't she?"

I wrinkled my nose at him. "You love me when I'm sassy."

His lips collided with mine in a sweet, but short-lived kiss. "I love you even when you're not."

The movie began, and about fifteen minutes into the movie and a few handfuls of popcorn later, my phone began to ring. I had left it in my room, but I decided to ignore it the first time. Tony was too into the movie to notice – or at least he made it seem like he did not realize. The second time around was a little irritating, but I let it go. On the third time, Tony complained, without so much as throwing a glance my way, "You wanna get that, Ziva?" He sounded so much like Gibbs to me at that moment.

I stood up and trudged into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind me. When I sat down on the edge of the bed, I saw that I had three missed calls from Abby. Almost immediately, the phone began to ring again. I finally answered it.

"Do you know how to answer your damn phone?"

It took me by surprise, the way she spoke. But following that thought was another, much weirder one. Abby sounded so different on the other end, almost un-Abby-like. Her voice sounded so dull and lifeless, despite her snappy tone. I really did not know how to describe it. She just sounded not like herself.

"W-what?" I sounded like a stammering idiot. Again.

"It's about time you answered your damn phone. What the hell were you even doing?"

"Are you okay, Abby?"

She sighed on the other end, sounding so very exasperated. "I need you to come over to McGee's place."

"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly feeling nervous.

"You ask so many questions, you know that? It's about the fingerprints thing. Just hurry up and get here!" With that, the line went dead. Surprised and shocked, I pulled my phone away from my ear and stared at my phone's background image until I was ready to move from that spot. That was definitely the oddest conversation I had ever had with Abby so far. Unless she was joking with me, but somehow I seriously doubted that.

I stood up from the bed and grabbed a coat from my closet. I stepped out of the room, knowing Tony would be disappointed that I had to interrupt our movie night, but Abby sounded so… demanding. I felt like I needed to get to McGee's place as soon as possible. Maybe even sooner than that.

"Tony," I called as I began to slip one arm into my coat.

He turned around to face me, not even bothering to pause the movie. "Where are you going?"

"Abby called," I told him. "She said I need to go to McGee's place."

"Why? What's going on?"

"She just has something important to tell me."

"Is it that important she just couldn't tell you on the phone?"

I shrugged a little, not wanting to mention the fingerprints thing until Abby told me all the details.

Tony shrugged back. "Alright, I guess we could go real quick."

I stopped. "Tony, I can go by myself."

He suddenly stopped and gave me a look. _That_ look. The look that said it all: You're joking, right? And when he spoke, his voice matched the look on his face that also said, _I don't think that's a good idea._ "You… wanna go alone?"

"Yeah. It'll be quick. I will go, see what it is that Abby wants to tell me, and come back."

"But… alone?"

I sighed inwardly. I could see the concern he was masking behind his eyes, and there I was, being an insensitive asshole, trying to dismiss his feelings as him being a drama queen – or king.

I stepped up to him, tried to put myself in his shoes for a moment. In his defense, I did try to commit suicide not too long ago, and if I were him, I would not trust myself to be alone anywhere either.

He remained still as I went up to him, a sign that he was waiting for me to give him a reason to trust me.

"Tony, I know what you're thinking," I began. He did not say anything to me, just waited. "But I promise you I'll be fine." His hesitation led me to ponder what exactly was going on inside his head. He must have wanted to be absolutely sure I would be okay on my own, and not do anything stupid. Simply telling him that I would be okay was not enough. I understood.

"Fine, Ziva," he said shortly. "Go then. Go see what Abby wants before she bites your head off."

I had to go gather some things before I headed out, which gave Tony enough time to tell me, "If you need anything, call me."

"Okay."

"I'm serious, Ziva. Call me if anything. And I mean _anything._"

"I got it, Tony," I said before I headed out. "I'll see you in a little bit."

Before I left, I caught a glimpse of the somewhat worried look that grazed his face. And he was probably still masking the other half of it, the way he masked almost everything else. With good reason, he did so. The moment I brought the engine to life, that nagging little voice in my head began to present itself, the one that told me to do things I should not do. I had to sit tight and let it pass, so to speak, for a few moments. It was still raining a little, so I tried to let the soothing sound of the rain gently beat those thoughts out of me. I had to tell myself along the way that I was going to McGee's place to see what Abby wanted and come back – that did not include driving the car off a bridge, or straight into a lake at full-speed, or anything of the sort.

It proved to be quite a challenge, trying not to do anything that I tried to do before, but another task was underway, and it was trying to keep myself calm as I wondered what news Abby would slap me with when I got there.


End file.
